


My Secret Escape

by gleechild



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:39:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24890200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleechild/pseuds/gleechild
Summary: There are secrets Hope doesn't want anyone to know about a certain Triad agent who became her escape when reality became too much for her to handle. Follows the show exactly, but find out what happened when no one was watching. HOLARKE.
Relationships: Ryan Clarke/Hope Mikaelson
Comments: 37
Kudos: 59





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> _I own nothing but my own words._

Following slowly behind Doctor Saltzman and Emma, Hope tried to take in as much as she could in the triage tent. She was worried about Josie, and she was trying to figure out where all these people had come from.

She knew she wasn't as suspicious in nature as Doctor Saltzman, but she was learning, especially after everything that had happened since Landon showed up on campus.

As she walked by the workers, she saw him.

 _I know him_ …

She looked away as quickly as possible, not wanting to draw attention or make eye contact. _What was he doing here?_

Doctor Saltzman came to a stop and she nonchalantly approached his side, staring back at _him_. "Don't look but that guy over there was outside of Seylah's house when we were in Kansas with the fake gas leak."

When he looked anyway, she insisted, "Don't look!" If she was going to pretty much stare at him, it wouldn't do for both of them to do it.

She wanted to know why he was here. She wanted to know the connection to Kansas.

Though, she also very much wanted to ignore the fact that she thought he was kind of attractive. She had a boyfriend; she shouldn't be thinking things like that.

Clarke was checking to make sure everything was running like clockwork. The triage tent was processing people, helping them with their stings. He had another team preparing to go down by the river.

That's when he saw her.

_Who's that girl?_

She wasn't fooling anyone; he could tell she was deliberately avoiding looking at him. She recognized him too. He frowned, deep in thought, and then he remembered. He'd seen her outside that house in Kansas. He'd never forget that face.

He noticed the man who had been with her before was with her now too. Speaking with the staff that checked them in, he went over the clipboard and sent out a team to search the vehicle they came in.

Twice now? That was too much of a coincidence.

After his team checked in, part of the mystery was solved. He wasn't sure if she was, in fact, supernatural, and he very much wanted to know. Was she a wolf? Witch? He could rule out vampire as she wasn't wearing a daylight ring.

Alaric Saltzman, if he were her father, was very much human. He was also the one Clarke would have to talk to if he wanted more information about why they were in town at the same time he was—and if he had any hope of talking to the girl. He'd prefer to talk to her alone but fat chance of that happening.

"Hello there," he said, stopping the headmaster and holding up his clipboard.

"Hello," Alaric said cautiously.

"I'm Deputy Agent Clarke," he introduced himself. "I apologize for the inconvenience. I see you're from Richmond."

"Uh, Roanoke," Alaric corrected.

 _My ass_ , Clarke thought. This guy was smooth though, he'd give him that.

"I'm just checking in with everyone," Clarke said as if he wasn't the actual one in charge of this entire mission. If this man had been paying attention, he'd have seen that Clarke hadn't spoken to any other civilian. "Sooner we get everyone proper medical attention, sooner you can go see that giant ball of yarn."

Alaric laughed. "Well, we, uh, don't need any attention, but thank you."

"So you came in from Raleigh on a road trip with your family," Clarke said.

"Roanoke," Alaric corrected again.

"Roanoke, sorry," Clarke worked to control his smirk, smiling slightly instead as he finally called the man's bluff. "You ever been to Kansas?"

He could see it in the man's eyes. He knew _exactly_ what he was talking about. And _still_ , the man kept up the façade.

"So if there's anything else…" Alaric trailed off, attempting to put an end to the conversation.

"Actually, I was hoping we could talk privately. You and your daughter, _Jessica_ , was it?" Clarke made sure to mention her. He wanted to talk to _her_. He didn't know if the man would notice that he didn't really need to include her. She didn't have any say in what was happening either way. At least if Alaric noticed, it wouldn't be clear until the conversation was over.

"I don't think we have anything more to discuss," Alaric tried to shut the conversation down once more.

"I could think of a few things." Smirk becoming more pronounced, Clarke loved this part—when he got to reveal that he knew more than they thought he did. "Mystic Falls, maybe? Or perhaps your school for supernatural children."

There it was. The man had to admit defeat. He would get his private discussion.

And he would get to talk to _her_.

Outside, meeting with both of them, he handed his card to Alaric who in turn handed it to the girl.

"I work for an organization that keeps monsters and things that go bump in the night from public view," he began. "I thought I recognized you and Jessica—"

"It's Hope actually," she interjected, correcting him sharply.

The first time she spoke directly to him and he had to grin at the attitude. Of _course_ he'd been given a fake name before.

 _Hope_.

He hesitated to look away from her, but he had to so he could impress upon the headmaster the importance of his request. He also didn't want the man to read too much into his attention to her. He'd never get a moment alone with her if her father was on guard.

"I wasn't sure it was coincidence, so we searched your van," he revealed. "We know you're Alaric Saltzman, headmaster of the Salvatore School. We know a lot about it. You have a terrific reputation."

Hope looked at Alaric with alarm.

"Leave the school out of this," Alaric said firmly.

"Look," Clarke said, "I applaud your school's mission. If you do your job right, makes mine easier." A little kissing ass would go a long way to getting the headmaster to agree to what he wanted. It would also take that look of alarm off of Hope's face.

"So, why are we still here?" Alaric asked.

"Well, I have an entire town that needs to forget what they've seen today," Clarke explained. "You know, usually it's convincing a farmer in Nebraska he didn't see a chimera, you know, or a few ice fishermen in Minnesota that it wasn't a yeti that ate their best friend." Yes, he was totally showing off, and it was completely for _her_ benefit. "This is an entire town. It's different."

He also couldn't just toss the bugs into the pit so they were forgotten. Even if the mummy was returned to the pit, none of the citizens had actually _seen_ the mummy, just the bugs. His father had definitely made a mess with this one. He'd have preferred the mummy get the latest artifact and put it in the pit without the plagues. Since he didn't, Triad had been alerted. So now Clarke had to clean up after the mummy _and_ work to stop him.

That was nothing new. He'd just make sure they got a hold of the artifact and put it in the pit himself.

"We could use the assistance of a vampire," he kept a constant smile now, attempting to be as polite as possible in his usual charming manipulative façade that worked so well. "I noticed the daylight ring on your daughters' boyfriend?" Now that he thought about it, the reports they had on Alaric Saltzman read that he started the school for his twin daughters. There was no mention of an older one. Perhaps they were also lying about the connection between them. Even better.

"Oh, he's not their... never mind," Alaric said.

"Why not call it a freak swarm of bugs?" Hope asked. "Why erase it from memory?"

 _Finally_ , a reason to look at her again.

"Because someone may recognize them for what they are," he explained. "Harbringers?"

"Of what?" she asked.

"Seriously?" he said. "This is obviously the work of a mummy."

Alaric cheered silently, and Hope looked at him.

"I told you," Alaric said to Hope.

"One of our drivers survived an attack by the river," Clarke explained. "He's been tracking the mummy ever since. He's still on the outskirts of town but he's heading in our direction."

Time to kiss more ass to get what he wanted. The driver had also mentioned the mummy was carrying the artifact. Using the Salvatore School students to retrieve it instead of his own people would wrap up everything all neat and tidy.

"We're a cleanup organization," he said, looking to the man again. "Okay, we're not equipped to go to battle with a mummy…

"So, will you help?" he asked hopefully. "Cut him off at the pass and keep these people safe?"

"These are kids," Alaric reminded him.

"Kids with magic, in a town full of innocents without it." He knew Alaric would be a hard sell so he laid it on as thick as possible, trying to sound like he was desperate for his help.

"We'd be happy to help," Hope spoke up, speaking in direct opposition to the man's words.

Clarke had to smile. At least his charm had worked on someone.

Alaric gave in. "I'm gonna need my weapons."

"Of course," Clarke said, "Gather what you need. Round up your friends. My team can help you with anything else."

 _That went better than expected_.

Hope was going over the spells in her head.

Emma had given all three girls a crash course in offensive magic, then went to go over the map with Alaric.

In the meantime, Lizzie was still being a bitch about imaginary offenses that Hope couldn't even begin to understand.

Hope had to get away from her until they left to fight the mummy, so she took a short walk outside. She needed to concentrate so she could get the spells correct. Protecting the townspeople and retrieving the urn were the most important things at this point.

That's when Deputy Agent Ryan Clarke approached her, gaining her attention immediately.

Clarke had noticed the headmaster was busy and, for once, she was alone. He didn't have a lot of time, so he got straight to the point.

"You know, you can use the number on that card for more than things that go bump in the night," he said, affecting a tone that clearly displayed his interest without overdoing it.

"Seriously?" Hope asked, momentarily surprised. Was he _really_ flirting with her right now?

"Well, yeah," he said.

"You _do_ realize I'm in high school, right?" she asked.

"But you won't be forever," he said. He didn't even know what age _he_ really was, so technically it didn't matter, but also… "Besides, your chart said you're eighteen."

Hope shook her head at him. So he thought he knew everything? _Not_.

"I have a boyfriend," she said.

"Yeah, that won't last forever either," he said.

"Oh, wow," she said. He definitely had a lot of nerve. " _Real_ smooth."

"I'm just sayin…" He removed her cell phone from his pocket where he'd put it after retrieving it from the phones collected. "Keep in touch…"

He handed the phone to her and left with a smile he knew was quite devastating to those who were interested in him. It always worked, so he had no qualms about using it once more.

Hope looked down at the phone, debating. The students at school weren't allowed to have phones, but Doctor Saltzman let her have one since the school started being attacked so much and she involved herself each time. She especially needed it for this trip since they split up from the adults. She hadn't, however, been given the phone so she could exchange numbers with any hot guy who asked. Of course, it didn't really matter because this guy was from Triad. She was definitely _not_ interested in him, no matter how attractive he was.

But since he _was_ part of Triad, an organization that they definitely needed to learn more about, maybe it _would_ be a good idea to keep a connection with him open. Know your enemy or something, right?

Sighing, she took the card out of her pocket and wrote out a text to him.

**You know your charm doesn't work on me, right?**

From where she stood, she saw him walking to meet some of his crew. He pulled his phone out before he got there, obviously noting the alert from his pocket. She saw him smirk and type out a quick reply.

**Worked enough to get your number**

The girls came to get her just then. They were ready to go. She left, turning to focus on the problem at hand instead of him.

Clarke stood next to Alaric, grinning. This day was wrapping up nicely.

The mummy had been taken care of, the urn was in the custody of Triad, and Hope had given him her number.

"I appreciate the cooperation, Doctor Saltzman," he said. "Hope we never have to see each other again." Though, he was _definitely_ looking forward to seeing Hope again.

"And I hope I never get assigned to look into your school," he added. He had done a little more investigating while they were out fighting the mummy. Whoever Hope was, she definitely wasn't this man's daughter. He had no qualms about threatening him further. He didn't like how he kept showing up where he didn't belong. He wanted to make sure the man knew who had more clout and power. "That'd be a real shame."

Alaric gave him a look and Clarke smirked. The man tried to act all 'big man on campus.' He loved getting a rise out of the headmaster and then knocking him down a peg.

Clarke was feeling pretty confident about everything, until the mummy rose again, that is.

"What the hell is happening?" he stalked up to Alaric.

"I don't know, he should be dead," Alaric said.

"Well, clearly he _isn't_ ," Clarke snapped at him.

"Yeah, I can see that," Alaric replied.

"He's looking for the urn," Hope said.

"What do we do?" Clarke asked both of them, worried. If the mummy did something to attack them, he would give himself away when he didn't die or was instantly cured. Triad could _not_ learn certain things about him.

"I don't know, give him the urn?" Alaric suggested.

 _Fine_ , if he had to do it, he would. Triad wouldn't be happy, but what did Clarke care if the mummy actually _did_ bring it home to Malivore.

"Hey, can someone give this thing the urn?" Clarke said into his walkie-talkie.

"Can't," came the reply over the com. "The urn's gone."

Clarke looked up at that. _What the…_

"Who's been in there?" Clarke asked suspiciously.

"Only our guys."

"Do something," Clarke spat out to Alaric. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he smelled foul play. Saltzman and the kids, they must be up to something.

The mummy had fully restored itself by now. The vampire had taken the scarab from its chest and the twins had it but things weren't ending as quickly as Clarke had hoped.

When the bugs were released, he ducked back, right along with Saltzman.

" _Buello!_ " he heard Hope call out.

When he didn't get stung, he realized she must've stopped them before they could get to him—or, well, any of them. Then the buzzing stopped completely.

He glanced up.

The mummy stood frozen.

"The curse is lifted," Alaric declared. "He's gone."

Clarke took stock of the situation, taking everything in, wondering how everything had gotten screwed up so quickly.

"Well!" Alaric said, turning to him. "Agent Clarke, we do anymore work for you guys, you're gonna have to put us on the payroll. Guess we'll be, uh, on our way out of here."

He was bullshitting him, Clarke could tell. He may not know what had happened, but he would piece it together very quickly.

Glancing at Hope, he saw she was already getting into the van. She _had_ to have known. He wasn't a fool. And Alaric had better watch out because he would definitely beat him at his own game. He already had leverage; they just didn't know it yet. It was also a good thing they'd put a tracer on the van.

Later, as he waited, he saw one of the medics give the urn to them. He had to shake his head. _Vampires_. Fortunately, he already had a way to get it back.

He told his driver to pull forward and stop behind them.

Getting out, he came around the backside of the van and stopped, waiting. He knew Saltzman would see him through the rearview mirror.

Alaric took the bait and left his vehicle, approaching Clarke with a wary look on his face, the urn firmly clutched in his hands.

"I'm impressed. I almost hate to take it off you," Clarke said, amused. "My team found your _wife_ looking for Dorian." More lies about their connection, of course. "We thought the two of them would provide some nice leverage in case things went wrong. I think you know what to do to get them back."

 _Gotcha_.

Alaric held up the urn, still holding it tightly, but very much willing to give it up at this point. "Let them go."

Clarke nodded to his team as he took the urn back.

He dropped his façade completely as they walked away.

They were there because they were after the urn too. Why would the headmaster and students of a school in the middle of Virginia be interested in the urn? It was worth looking into.

As he walked away, he glanced into the van, knowing she was there, probably watching him too.

His little flirtation wouldn't go anywhere now, if she was even really interested to begin with. She would probably be ticked he'd gotten the urn. He was a bit annoyed that they—including her—had tried to steal it away. But since he was the one who held it in the end, he could appreciate the deviousness and even use it to further fuel that flirtation.

Something told him she wouldn't see it that way.

**I suppose this changes things**

When he didn't get an immediate response although he knew she had nothing better to do while sitting in a van on an hours long journey, he knew he was correct.

Weighing his options, and whether he wanted to attempt anything further, he decided to end with one last message.

**Something to remember me by…**

Hope had gotten his texts immediately but ignored them. She was too frustrated. They _needed_ that urn. What was Triad going to do with it now? Use it to help unlock Malivore? If they were really an organization that took care of monsters, why raise the biggest one of them all? Or was Triad just trying to do what they were? Keep the urn away from the pit?

Her thoughts were occupied by many questions but her biggest one of the day wasn't about the urn, Triad, or even Ryan Clarke. No, her biggest question was why Josie had chosen to lie to Lizzie about her. It hurt a lot. She, who had chosen never to open up to people or even befriend anyone, had done _nothing_ to warrant that. So why had Josie done it? She would find out when they got back. In the midst of everyone was not the time to discuss it.

Finding out later that Josie had a crush on her, it sort of made sense. It wouldn't replace what was lost but at least now the air was clear, and maybe Lizzie wouldn't act like such a bitch towards her any longer.

She thought that the night would finally be over, but it wasn't. Landon, Rafael, and MG were missing. It was the night of the full moon and her locator spell wasn't working so there was reason to be terrified.

As the night turned into day and they tried to question Rafael with little success, Hope grew more and more frustrated.

"A monster."

It didn't make _any_ sense! Triad had the urn. There shouldn't _be_ anymore monsters coming after them, certainly none that made their way through Maryland.

She looked at her phone, resigned, and opened the messages app. Clicking on "Ryan Clarke" she loaded the unread messages from last night.

**I suppose this changes things. Something to remember me by…**

She stared down at the photo he'd sent. Nearly everything he did annoyed her, especially sending a photo of himself smirking at her. Like she _wanted_ to remember the way his eyes squinted at the corners with his smile, or that he had a rather generous mouth that she suspected would be perfect for kissing

She went to delete the photo but as her thumb hovered over the button, she stopped. Rolling her eyes at herself, ignoring any attempts to analyze why she hadn't deleted it, she opened a new message window.

**You aren't in Maryland with that urn, are you?**

Rafael had been sleeping for hours and she hadn't heard back from Ryan. _He_ was the one who attempted to continue their connection even when she ignored him, so shouldn't he reply when she messaged him?

Frustrated completely at this point, she'd taken it upon herself to find a way to help Rafael.

As the day wore on and turned into night, she experienced feelings that she had long since wished she'd never feel again.

She really thought Landon was dead. She'd been completely devastated. That pain, it was so achingly familiar and she hated it. She didn't want it.

It had stuck with her though, even after he burst into flames and lived once more.

Was she destined to live through something like that again and again?

Was this what she had opened herself to by opening up to someone else?

When she got home, she saw Ryan had replied.

**Rather blatant way to keep tabs on me**

That wasn't her intention at the time, but it _was_ her ultimate goal, so him stating it like that, like he knew what she was up to, threw her. She didn't want to immediately reply to prove him right, even if he was.

And yet… she found she couldn't resist replying.

It wasn't that she was _really_ interested in him, she had Landon after all.

It was just… fun.

She knew flirting with him wasn't anything serious. There was no opening up to him, nothing more than cute little witty exchanges. And, frankly, his interest in her was flattering. Plus, as long as nothing was serious, she wouldn't get hurt.

Late in the night, long after they had returned from Maryland and everyone else had gone to sleep, she lay in her bed and texted him back.

**Not like you'd fall for that**

Clarke rolled over with a sigh, instantly alert to the sound of his phone. He'd just settled down, ready to crash for the night. Whatever monster crisis was happening now, it could wait 'til morning or they could wake up someone else to handle it.

Seeing who it was from, he grinned and immediately relaxed.

**Currently at home, in bed. Feel free to drop by anytime.**

Despite herself, she giggled softly. He was really forward, wasn't he?

**Still in high school**

He was quick to note she didn't say she would never be willing to come by, just reminding him that she was still in high school… and as he'd established before, she wouldn't be forever. Just how much longer _would_ she be, though?

**Senior?**

**No… junior**.

 _Damn_ , he winced. And here he was hoping she'd be done soon, especially with his father rising and everything. He might be a little busy after that, but he would find a way to see her. It wasn't like him to get this hooked on someone but something about her had drawn his attention. Now that a connection had been made, he wanted to pursue it. And, as long as she kept replying to him, it seemed she did too.

**Kinda old for that**

She sighed. Of course he'd point that out. She knew she should've already moved on to the next phase of her life. She would be a senior at nineteen. Usually only vampires were still here that long, or longer, but then they never aged.

**Started late, missed a lot of school**

_Crap_ , she thought. Was this opening up? She didn't want to do that. He wasn't someone she wanted to open up to. She didn't need someone _else_ whose demise would hurt her. This was supposed to be fun.

**No more biblical plagues?**

Clarke wondered at that. She hadn't waited for him to reply and when she did, she was completely changing the subject. To one that he really had no interest in discussing with her.

**Forget work, tell me what you're wearing**

She shifted and may have squealed slightly. How did he keep doing that? Turning the tables completely on her? She flushed and tried to think of a suitable response.

**Boyfriend, remember?**

He shook his head. She could claim a boyfriend all she wanted but, if she was so devoted to whoever this boy was, she wouldn't be texting _him_ in the middle of the night.

**Yet, you're still talking to me**

He waited, but she didn't reply. Had he made her feel guilty for pointing that out? _Too bad_. If she wanted to continue this, she was going to have to get past that. Or, better yet, dump the boyfriend completely.

 **I could tell you what** _**I'm** _ **wearing… or better yet, show you**

**Please don't.**

She replied to his text as quickly as possible. Who knew _what_ would show up on her phone if he did that?

Her hand shook slightly. She hadn't intended to get so flustered. She didn't know what she'd been thinking. This was definitely wrong. She had to put a stop to it.

**Goodnight, Ryan**

Disappointed and amused at the same time, he backed down. Talking to her, thinking about her, and remembering his interactions with her, she had managed to arouse him. He would send off a final message before he used his hand to work that out.

**Goodnight, Hope**

Breathing a sigh of relief, Hope lay back on her pillows and stared at the ceiling until she calmed down.

Pulling the phone back up to her face, she loaded the photo he'd sent her before.

Evil, or whatever he was, did he have to be so attractive? Did his simple texts have to turn her on despite everything?

She had a boyfriend. She shouldn't be talking to other guys, or fantasizing about other guys…and yet, here she was…

In the privacy of her own room, no one would ever know who she was thinking about or whose photo she stared at as her fingers trailed down to pleasure herself.

The next night, she tried to resist again. She _really_ did, but… spring break wasn't over yet, and she was still dealing with the need to escape. He was the perfect escape, the perfect secret. Something that didn't mean anything in the long run. Just…fun.

**Asking for my number, that was pretty bold of you**

He'd been hoping she'd message him again. He wasn't disappointed. He also didn't mind stepping it up a notch. He'd been pretty straightforward so far and she kept responding.

**I just know what I want**

One message from him and she was already feeling flushed. She thought she was better prepared this time. Obviously, not. But, she wasn't going to back down. Not yet anyway.

**And what's that?**

_Oh, if only she knew_. He wanted her naked, legs spread open for him, beneath him, and he wanted it badly—especially after his fantasies of her last night.

**You**

She buried her head into her pillow, clenching her eyes tightly closed. How was it possible that he could turn her on with a simple text so quickly?

**You don't even know me**

He knew all he needed to know at the moment. And, if he was correct, he knew something else too. His flirting had been very specific last night. For her to come back for more, it made him wonder…

**What did you do last night, after you said good night?**

When she didn't reply, not even to say she simply 'went to sleep', he got his answer.

**Did you think of me?**

She was feeling really hot. How could he possibly know that?

**Maybe**

He smirked. That was a _yes_.

 **I definitely thought of you…a certain part of my anatomy had you** _**very** _ **much on the mind**

 _Oh my God_. This was insane… And it was exactly why she'd messaged him again that night. She didn't know how to reply though. She didn't want to end it yet, but she didn't know what to say. Fortunately, it didn't matter because it seemed he had all the words.

**Did you touch yourself?**

Tentatively, she typed out a word and sent it before she could change her mind.

**Maybe**

_Yes_. He slipped his hand down to that certain part of his anatomy again, needing to give himself some relief.

**What about right now?**

She considered. She was definitely feeling it. The night was probably going to end that way, but doing it _while_ he knew she was?

**No**

He shook his head. Gonna have to change that.

**Touch yourself, Hope… I am.**

She shouldn't, she _really_ shouldn't… but she couldn't help it. She shucked off her panties before she could think better of it. In a last bid for privacy even though she was in her _locked_ room, she pulled her sheet up to cover her entirely.

She reached down and moaned a little when her fingers came in contact. She was so wet and swollen. He had done this to her.

**Are you**

She bit her lip and with her free hand typed out a reply.

**Yes**

Grasping himself even tighter, he jerked into his hand.

**Pretend it's me… touching you**

And she did… she remembered when he handed her phone back, she remembered his fingers… She gasped as the pleasure rose. Focusing on it, she nearly missed his next text.

**Keep going**

And she did, she kept going, touching herself the way she knew she liked, increasing the pressure, the touch, losing track of the phone as she lost herself in imagining his fingers inside of her.

When the pressure finally exploded, giving her a release that left her slightly breathless, she cautiously picked up the phone again.

**Let me know**

She swallowed, suddenly feeling bashful again, but she'd promised herself she wouldn't shy away from him tonight.

**Ryan?**

He came with a grunt, his hand going into overdrive in those last few moments. He grabbed a towel to clean up the mess even as he sought out his phone again. Seeing her delayed reply, he had to ask.

**Did you**

**Yes**

Smirking while wishing he'd been privy to that visual, he felt even more satisfied.

**If it was anything like mine, waiting til the end of high school might be too much to ask…**

Knowing he'd pleasured himself at the same time as her had her grinning down at the phone. This wasn't what she'd intended when she'd given him her phone number, but she had to admit. She liked it.

But she'd had enough of going outside her comfort zone for a little fun that night. She wasn't sure what more he'd want from her, and she wasn't willing to give anymore anyway. So…

**Goodnight, Ryan.**

Sighing, he figured all good things must come to an end. There was always tomorrow night, wasn't there?

**Goodnight, Hope.**

Walking around campus the next day, she saw Landon, of course, and all of the horror came rushing back again.

She hung out with him, but she kept pushing away those thoughts and feelings. She didn't want it. She didn't want to let it in.

Focusing on Ryan, on her escape, she was able to push all the bad stuff away. She didn't really know him, but that was a good thing. It was exactly what she needed.

She let her mind wonder to last night, only giving Landon part of her attention, and ended up spending the day slightly aroused.

She couldn't wait to crawl into bed that night and message him. In the back of her mind somewhere, she knew this was all kinds of wrong. But if it was helping her cope, helping her escape her demons, it couldn't be all that bad, could it?

When she did get ready for bed, she deliberately didn't wear any panties. She'd been waiting all day for this, why pretend she hadn't?

Usually she thought of something witty to say to him, but tonight she drew a blank, so she went with something simple just to let him know she wanted to talk.

**Hey**

Cursing, he looked down at his phone and then took in his surroundings. His team was setting up ops to stakeout a potential asset he wanted to bring in. Everyone was nearly in place, but he had to make sure all bases were covered before he could go to the company provided hotel for the night.

**Working late. Give me an hour**

Disappointed, she sighed and resigned herself to loading his photo while she waited.

**Don't start without me**

She had to laugh. Like he _assumed_ they would be doing the same thing they had last night. What if she just wanted to _talk_ to him?

**Pretty presumptive of you**

He didn't have time to continue the chat but sent off a quick emoji before pocketing the phone. Any replies would have to wait.

She looked down at the winky face and shook her head. She didn't think he was an emoji sort of guy.

Waiting for him, she lay there thinking about the night he'd first approached her. That look of his had unsettled her, especially once she knew he was interested in her. Now though, she recognized it less as unsettling and more as arousing. She completely and totally lusted after him.

**Hey**

She immediately perked up. Took him long enough. She had turned her sound on just in case she started to doze off, so his message chimed loud and clear.

**Let me guess. Work took you some place exotic?**

Sometimes he wondered about her. Whenever it sounded like she was fishing for information about his work, he questioned why exactly she'd given up her number in the first place. But then he remembered last night and figured whatever the reason, she definitely wasn't faking that.

**Ibiza is beautiful this time of year.**

She laughed out loud. Now he was just teasing her.

**You're definitely NOT in Ibiza.**

He hadn't said he was, he'd only stated a fact. Ibiza _was_ beautiful this time of year. He just hadn't been there in quite some time.

**You'll never know for sure, will you?**

She smirked before typing out her next message.

**Oh, I have my ways of locating people who don't want to be found.**

He bet she did.

**Maybe, but for that you'd need something of mine.**

**True**

He _did_ know a thing or two about witches even though he couldn't use magic himself.

 **On the other hand, I know exactly where** _**you** _ **are**

She rolled her eyes.

**Didn't really need to use all your resources to figure that out**

He laughed.

**True... but I don't know everything, like what you're doing right now**

Her breath hitched, only because she read between the lines. He'd been keeping the conversation relatively tame until this point, but she knew he was about to turn the tables on her again.

**Talking to you**

He shook his head. She knew exactly what he was asking.

**Is that all?**

She nodded even though he couldn't see her. She actually _was_ just sitting and talking to him… for now.

**Yes**

Time for him to change things up. He'd been thinking about this off and on all day.

**If I were there with you, I know exactly what you'd be doing right now**

She shifted slightly.

**Is that so?**

There she went again, acting like she didn't know, but he knew she did.

**Don't be coy. You and I both know why you messaged me tonight.**

She decided to mix a little truth in, not like he'd know if it was true or not.

**Maybe I was really just trying to find out where you are? Spy on you for once.**

It's like she was reading his mind.

**If you really want to know, I could give you a visual…**

She gulped, wondering if he would _really_ do that, deciding she didn't want him to… she didn't think. But the thought of it had her hesitantly sliding one hand down while the other messaged him.

 **What** _**are** _ **you doing?**

Currently? He was reaching for some lotion so he could get started. He waited to reply until after he'd done so.

**Thinking about you, wishing you were the one touching me instead. You're doing the same thing, aren't you**

She closed her eyes, breathing out as she imagined she really _was_ touching him. She wanted to. She wanted to feel all of him.

**Yeah**

She got into it then, rubbing herself while trying to pay attention to the phone. Her eyes widened when the phone suddenly shrilled, disarming her.

She had an incoming call from him.

She debated, nearly panicking, unsure of what to do but the sound got to her. She finally answered but didn't say anything at first.

"Hope..." Calling her meant he didn't have to focus so much on texting. He needed his hands for something else.

She'd nearly forgotten what his voice sounded like. It set her nerve endings on fire. She responded softly, "Yes?"

"I wanna hear you..." He'd been wondering about it all day. He wanted to know what she sounded like, what noises she made while thinking about him.

"I-I-I..." she stuttered, feeling completely nervous, which warred with the pleasure she was feeling. How was she supposed to _talk_ to him while she was doing this? She couldn't think, much less speak. It was hard enough to text. At least now she didn't have to do that…

"You don't have to say anything," he murmured.

She could hear the thick huskiness in his voice.

"Just wanna hear the sounds you make…" he finished, his sounds catching in _his_ throat.

She realized what he wanted so she resumed her movements, seeking out the most pleasurable places. She imagined touching him again and didn't hold back the gasps.

"That's it," he encouraged with a moan of his own. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Uh huh..." she whispered.

"How many fingers?" He didn't wait for her to answer, just instructed. "Slide two inside... move them around... then scissor them apart..."

She jerked her legs further apart as she did as he asked. He had her crying out.

"Add another finger…" His voice practically crooned to her. "Slide them inside, then pull them out... Then back in… are you doing it?"

"Yes..." she moaned out.

"That's me, I want that to be me, inside of you, sliding in and out... do you feel it... do you feel me?" he groaned, shifting his hips up as his hand increased rhythm.

Her moans were climbing, she was so turned on, so hot, she felt like she was going to explode any minute.

"That's it, Hope." He heard her, he knew she was almost there. "Say my name."

"Ryan..." she breathed out.

"Say it again," his throat clogged as he moaned out his own pleasure.

"Ryan, yes, oh yes." She lost focus on her words, could only focus on the mounting pleasure. "Ryan, please!"

"You got it," he said. "Anything you want."

She cried out louder than she intended as she came on her fingers, whimpering softly as she came down from her high. She could hear him through the phone. His breathing had changed along with hers. His grunt of completion followed behind her final cry.

She lay back, worn out, wiping her fingers on the cover, breathing hard, and listening for him. She'd never done anything like this before but she definitely loved every minute of it.

His breathing finally evened out as he lay listening to her soft sighs. He had to ask, "When can I see you again?"

She went completely silent. Well, she _did_ love every minute of it, until he asked that.

Hearing her silence, even the sound of her breathing had stopped, he felt like something was off. Maybe she'd gotten the wrong idea?

"We don't have to do anything," he hastened to say.

He honestly didn't think when he'd gotten her number three days ago that they'd be having phone sex by now. Even with her being of age, she'd been very adamant about being in high school and having a boyfriend. He figured he'd be waiting a while for her. Since he wasn't, he didn't want her to think anything was expected.

"I just want to see you. I'd like to, you know, talk to you... get to know you. I like you, Hope."

If she was being honest, he'd have been much more likely to get a response out of her if he _did_ want to meet just to mess around. Not that she would, of course. But when he added on the rest, it was the worst possible thing he could've said. This wasn't supposed to be anything but fun, yet he was asking for more. He wanted to get to know her. He wanted her to open up to him.

And that was never going to happen.

"I gotta go," she finally said.

"Wait, just—" he tried to stop her.

"Goodnight, Ryan," she spoke over him quickly before hanging up.

He tried to call her back, mumbling the entire time as he waited for her to answer again, "Come on, answer!"

She shut off the sound and let the call go to voicemail. She wasn't going to answer. She couldn't.

Finally, he sent a text in defeat. He'd backtrack tomorrow. He must've pushed too hard. He could fix this.

**Goodnight, Hope.**

She tossed her phone away and rolled over to bury her face in her pillow.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be her escape, but now he wanted to go and change things on her.

Reality was crashing back in and with it everything she'd been pushing away. Of course it all came back with _guilt_ at the forefront. She'd been lying to herself. What she was doing with Ryan, it wasn't okay. Landon definitely would _not_ be okay with it. It didn't matter that it was a secret, done in the privacy of her own room with no one the wiser. It didn't matter that Ryan had never actually touched her, nor she him. It was still wrong.

This wasn't like her. She never would've thought to do something like this before. Circumstances just led it to happen right when she needed to get away from all the heavy stuff, the stuff that was too much for her to bear.

But no more.

She needed to focus on Landon. She was with _Landon_. She was scared of losing _Landon_. Focusing on reality made it all come rushing back. The horror, the devastation. The trauma. And on its heels was the guilt of flirting with someone else. Of seeking out someone else.

Landon was her boyfriend and she cared about him so much. Tomorrow would be all about _him_ and _them_. And so would every day after that.

She needed to stop trying to escape and face reality head on.

The following night Clarke waited, and waited some more. Each night _she'd_ been the one to message him first, to initiate everything. As time wore on, he wondered if maybe she thought it was his turn. So he tried…

**Any guesses where I've been today?**

He'd returned to Georgia, at headquarters. Not like he was going to tell her that of course. With any luck, his asset would be secured and brought to him by morning. In the meantime, he had the whole night ahead of him. He'd been looking forward to enjoying it with her.

But it didn't seem like she was going to respond tonight.

Maybe she'd already fallen asleep.

Or maybe he really _had_ done something to screw it up last night. All he'd done was ask to see her again. What could be the harm in that? Especially after their phone exchanges?

Or maybe… it _was_ Friday night. Was that teen-speak for date night? She had reminded him a couple times that she had a boyfriend. She definitely hadn't been spending much time with him that week, not when Clarke was taking up her nights. Was that what she was doing? Spending time with her boyfriend?

Involuntarily, he clenched his bed sheet in a tight fist.

He'd basically said without saying that he didn't care that she had a boyfriend. And he didn't… well, he _hadn't_. But there was just something about her. He knew it was insane. She was right, he didn't even know her. But for whatever reason, she was different.

He liked her. He wanted her. And he definitely cared if she was with someone else.

**Message me when you get this.**

**Goodnight, Hope.**

If she'd fallen asleep, then she'd reply in the morning. If she was out on a date, then she'd reply before she went to sleep.

If she didn't reply at all… well, he didn't want to think what that might mean. Either he _had_ screwed things up, or she didn't bother responding because she was otherwise occupied…for the entire night.

He gritted his teeth.

He didn't have a claim on her. He knew that.

He had set himself up for this. He knew that too.

He also didn't know anything for sure, and he _wouldn't_ know until she actually replied to him.

Hope stuck to her plan, doing her best to atone for her guilt, and made sure to spend as much time as possible with Landon. They had even fallen asleep on her bed after some late night talking.

That turned out to be a bad thing, considering the nightmare she had that caused her to lash out at him with her magic.

She knew something was wrong with her, she was just in denial. And she would _not_ talk to Emma about it. She wasn't going to admit to _anyone_ that she'd kept in contact with the guy from Triad. As for the trauma…well, she'd dealt with that before. She could do it again. _Just like riding a bike_.

Or, so she thought.

After spending the day trying to convince Landon he had nothing to be jealous of—which was true of Roman at least—her frustration was at an all time high.

Lizzie did what she could to help her, even taking her to scream it all out. It _had_ helped at the time, but it wasn't over yet.

Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, Landon showed up asking her if she knew about his mother. He knew she'd lied to him. It was the worst possible time, as she was about to walk down the stairs for the stupid pageant Lizzie had insisted she enter. She was so grateful to finally be friends with Lizzie and she didn't want to let her down. She probably would have gone after him anyway just because she didn't know what to do and felt so off balance but then Roman showed up.

She went through the motions, trying to keep herself together. Hoping to find a distraction from what was happening inside of her, she focused on the twins arguing. She asked Roman to eavesdrop.

That turned out to be a mistake too.

There she was, standing in the middle of the dance floor in a dress that her _father_ had given to Caroline, reminded of the memory of _his_ death, which made her think about her _mother's_ , and then the death of Landon on top of that, and she couldn't take it. All the pain hit her at once, and she couldn't escape it. Everything started rattling, but then Lizzie was there. Lizzie was holding her, comforting her, encouraging her to cry.

And then she was, sobbing great tears of grief.

It was what she needed the most. To get it all out.

And then, when it was over, when her mind was clear again, she knew what she had to do.

**This was a mistake. Don't message me again. I'm sorry.**

She had to put an end to whatever she'd started with Ryan. She needed to do away with the things that were dragging her down. Her guilt was an easy one to fix. She just had to never talk to Ryan again. She deleted his number, all of their messages, and his photo. Then she turned off her phone and put it away to store until the end of term. She wasn't supposed to be using the phone at school anyway.

As she sat, talking with Lizzie, she didn't know that four hundred miles away someone was calling her repeatedly, frustrated that he couldn't reach her.

Ending the call when it reached her voicemail once again, Clarke glared at the phone in his hand.

He knew who she was now. Hope Mikaelson. Tribrid. Her father was one of the most bloodthirsty and cruelest of the original vampires. She obviously didn't take after him.

He also knew his brother was at her school. The idiot had, quite literally, shown up on his boss' doorstep and introduced himself. His brother was a phoenix, something else he'd learned from Mrs. G's interaction with the school.

His team had successfully retrieved his asset and he may have been a bit cranky that morning when he sent her off. After the night he'd spent tossing and turning, wondering what Hope was up to, he'd _kind_ of been in a bad mood.

He'd sent in his asset to retrieve his brother because they knew the school was having a public event. Knowing he'd be recognized immediately, he couldn't try to make his way there to retrieve him on his own. He wish he could've though. Then maybe he'd have a chance to see her again. _Talk_ to her.

Receiving that message from Hope had made him try to call her again because he knew his words and voice could be much more persuasive. He didn't know why she'd had a change of heart but he had time while he waited to hear from the gorgon. He needed to try to convince her to change her mind back.

Of course, he couldn't do that when she had the phone turned off.

Later on, his boss showed up with his brother. It was time for the truth to come out and for him to find the final artifact. He would also have to abandon his phone, unfortunately, so he couldn't be tracked after he left with Landon through the tunnels Triad didn't know about. He had her number saved elsewhere though.

After his father rose, he'd seek her out when he could. And honestly, he didn't care that she was in high school. Summer break was on the way, right? If he played his cards right, maybe he could get her to do away with the boyfriend for him.

Hope spent the day trying to come to terms with everything and trying to figure out a way to talk to Landon once he got back.

As she worked her way through, she gradually figured out one startling truth. She loved him. The way she'd felt when she thought he was dead, the pain… the only time she'd ever experienced that before was over someone she loved. It had to be love, didn't it? She never felt this way about anyone before…of course, she didn't have much experience with these sort of feelings for anyone other than family, but that didn't matter. She knew what she felt. And she was in love with Landon.

The evening took a sour turn, though, when she finally realized something was amiss. Landon wasn't out taking a break from her. He'd left too many clues on that recording that didn't make sense. Enlisting Roman's help, she finally figured it out.

Landon was taken by Triad.

Clarke's conversation with his brother was going rather well, seeing as how Landon was listening so attentively. He hadn't ever been able to share this story with anyone, but, oh, had he practiced it. For the next part—finding the final artifact—he would need to make sure Triad stayed off their trail, so he sent them on a fool's errand.

It would mean sending the company to the school and giving Saltzman a pain in the ass, but he was alright with that.

Hope tried to leave to go after Landon, but Triad showed up. She was so angry at Clarke at that point. Yes, _Clarke_. She would only _ever_ refer to him as Clarke from now on. He was an agent, not some hot guy who would ever get to talk to her again.

At least it wasn't Clarke standing there with stakes and wolfsbane and guns. And he hadn't stolen their magic. Of course, he was probably responsible for Landon's disappearance. Did he know who her boyfriend was? Was he telling him, even now, that not only had his girlfriend lied to him, but she'd been betraying him too? She'd only initiated contact with Clarke in the first place to use him, so why was _she_ the one feeling used?

And worried. This other agent, he worried her. He wasn't levelheaded and smooth like Clarke. This one was trying to overtly assert his authority. There was hatred in his stance, his words, and his attitude towards them. This place was full of kids and without magic how were they going to protect them? How was she going to protect herself?

Finding out they had weaponized the pit to use against all supernaturals and knowing how it would result in such a slow painful death, she grew even angrier at the entire organization. What kind of people _were_ they? And Clarke was a part of _that_? What had she been thinking?

She didn't know what to do. Josie was dying, they were locked up, powerless, and this was all her fault. She just _had_ to ignore Doctor Saltzman's warning. She also worried if she had done something to make Triad come. Was Clarke angry because she'd ended things yesterday without another word? She really _didn't_ know him. She wasn't sure if he was capable of doing something like that in anger. And what made them think the final artifact was _here_?

But, suddenly, everything was looking up. MG rescued them, Doctor Saltzman turned off the blood fountain, and she was free to go rescue Landon.

And rescue him, she did.

Once the headless horseman was defeated and Landon was safe, she could _finally_ tell him how she felt about him. Thankfully he just seemed relieved to see her and was no longer harboring any anger towards her.

They kissed and then she immediately began to speak. "So I had this entire speech I practiced with your prismatic hologram."

"My what?" Landon asked.

"But I know that the only thing you want from me is the truth," Hope said quickly. "And the truth is... I love you. I'm really sorry about all the secrets that I've kept, but I'm mostly sorry about keeping that one. 'Cause I love you, Landon Kirby."

"I mean, it wasn't a huge secret," Landon said, eyes wide. "Because I love you too, Hope Mikaelson. And I forgive you for anything that needs it. And I know it looked like I was losing when you got here, but that's just how phoenix combat looks, so... "

They laughed and then kissed again.

When Clarke walked into the pit room, he wasn't sure what to expect but witnessing Hope kissing his brother and them exchanging declarations of love for what appeared to be the first time was _not_ it.

The rage he felt in the pit of his stomach wasn't slight in the least, it warred with the pain.

So, the boyfriend she kept mentioning was none other than his little brother. _Small world._

That must be why she'd sent that final message. She must've realized she was in love, so she had to get rid of Clarke so she didn't feel guilty anymore. That wasn't anything new. Everyone was always looking to get rid of him. Case in point—his father.

He had to look away but he was glad he did because he saw the artifact sitting on a ledge near him. Picking it up, he smiled wickedly.

"Nothing like young love, is there?" he interrupted them.

They turned to look at him and he saw that look on her face. _Caught!_ She was worried he'd tell on her. If he had more time, he'd love to reveal one of those secrets she'd just apologized for keeping. But time was something he was in short supply of.

"Shame it has to be so short lived," he said. "You'll find, baby brother, one of our family's worst traits is…" He held up the artifact. "Well, we're terribly clumsy."

He didn't hesitate as he tossed it into the pit.

"No!" She looked down horrified while he looked with victory. He may not get to have her, but neither would his brother, not once his father rose.

"Aren't you going to clap or something? That was a total power move."

He'd made her speechless. She wasn't happy with him, but he didn't care. He actually _had_ liked her. Why did she have to go and ruin everything? Why did she have to be involved in this entire mess? Raising his father was his single purpose, his goal. She'd been something he wanted to pursue on the side of all that.

Not now, though. Now, he didn't want to have anything to do with her. Now, he just wanted to hurt her as much as she'd hurt him, and then some.

He should've been paying more attention to his brother though, the one who would be affected most by Malivore rising. If he had, he might have noticed him picking up the headless horseman's bone whip before he flung it at him and broke his neck.

Seeing Clarke's neck break before he fell, Hope looked back at Landon in shock. She wasn't sure _how_ she felt about that. As much as she knew Clarke was a bad guy, and as much as she hated him for everything Triad had just done to the school, she had _known_ him. She didn't want him to _die_ …. And why had he called Landon 'baby brother'?

"Damn, Phoenix combat is no joke," she said for lack of anything better.

"Okay. We gotta think. We gotta figure something out to keep him from rising," Landon began to pace.

"What do you mean, him?" Hope asked. Clarke? Because that would be okay…

"Ooh, we have a lot to catch up on," Landon looked at her before launching into the story.

She followed the story rather well.

"Wow, that's a lot to take in," she said. "So Malivore's your dad?" _And Clarke's._

"Weird, huh?"

"And he can't be killed, which is why Triad turned him to goo?" she asked.

"You're a quick study."

"But nothing's ever immortal. I mean, not really. Nature won't allow it. There's always a loophole," she explained, mind racing.

"Any brilliant ideas? Because I think we're running out of time."

And she did. She knew exactly what she had to do. It was what she was born for. She was the only thing that could stop this… she was going to have to die.

"Just one. But you're gonna hate it. Kiss me," she demanded softly.

So he did.

"I didn't hate that at all."

"Not that," she said quietly. "This."

With tears in her eyes, she broke his neck.

She called Doctor Saltzman. She had to make sure he got Landon. She had to make sure he got rid of everything connected to her. She knew he wouldn't like it, but there wasn't any other choice.

"Clarke won!" she said, hating herself for losing sight of what mattered most when it came to Clarke. "He found the final artifact, and he tossed it into the pit, which is Landon's father, by the way. And now Malivore's gonna rise unless I stop him."

"Stop him how?" Doctor Saltzman asked.

"Landon's got all the answers, but basically Malivore was created by the blood of a werewolf, a witch, and a vampire. It used to be that only _they_ could destroy what they created, but nature found a loophole. By making me. The Tribrid. I'm the loophole."

He tried to convince her to wait, that it was just a theory, but there was no time. And, she knew deep down that she was right.

"Think about it. I'm the answer to all of this. Did my blood heal Josie?"

Still, he tried to argue with her, but in the end he made the promise to do as she asked.

She hung up and deleted all outgoing calls. She hadn't had her own cell on her when Triad showed up since it was still stored away in her room, so she'd brought the school phone along. She'd leave the phone by Landon's side so he had a lifeline when he lived again.

She went over and looked down into the pit.

It was bubbling now, something was definitely happening. The muddy face she'd seen forming in its depths was the face of Malivore. She had to end this. She didn't want to die, but she was the hero. This was why she was created. She had to do this.

Clarke got up then and fixed his neck.

"Sorry, I was eavesdropping," he said. "What are you waiting for?" If she really thought she could destroy his father, so be it. It wasn't like she was clamoring to be with _him_ anyway.

Maybe it was a good thing, in the end, that she hadn't wanted him. If she had, things would be very different right now for him. He would still want his father dead, so where would that leave them?

Good thing he didn't have to figure it out.

"I assumed you were gonna try to stop me," she said, face flushing slightly as she spoke directly to him for the first time since their phone exchanges. Wasn't his end game to see the rise of his father? Wasn't that the reason for all of this?

"Hell no. I was only trying to raise my father because I'm terrified of him, and I knew he'd find a way out someday," he explained as he walked toward the door. "But if you're right about this loophole—can actually kill the bastard once and for all—be my guest."

He turned back to look at her, the glare on his face denoting his anger at her. He'd been looking forward to the next time he saw her, now he wished he hadn't bothered.

"And if you're wrong, well, no harm done because you'll be dead," he said spitefully. "So go on. I'll be rooting for you."

Gone were her earlier thoughts when she didn't want him to be dead. No, not when _he_ didn't care if _she_ lived or died. He was actually encouraging her to jump into that pit and die. To what end? So he could keep on living? So he could kidnap Landon again who was lying _right there_.

Why did Clarke get to go on living while she died when this whole thing was _his_ fault in the first place? She had definitely picked the wrong person to get involved with. Fortunately she wouldn't have to regret that much longer.

"That's not all you'll be doing," she glared at him. This had all been some sort of game to him, hadn't it? Well, two could play that game. " _Imitantor Pupulus_."

"Whatever you think you just did, didn't work."

She reached up and covered her mouth with her hand. He did the same.

She slowly brought her hand away, and so did he.

"How'd you do that? Why did I do that?" He wasn't feeling too great about this change in their dynamic. What was she doing?

"It's a basic mimic spell. We learned it in second grade," she said. "Also in second grade... follow the leader."

As she walked towards him, and he began to involuntarily walk towards her, he suddenly understood exactly what her plan was. _No_.

"You don't have to do this," he pleaded. She would kill him right along with her.

"I know," she said, eyes blazing. "But it's the only part I'm actually enjoying. Too bad you're so clumsy."

 _Clumsy_. There it was, the reason she was doing this. He had tossed in the last artifact.

He'd gotten his revenge on her and now she was getting revenge on him. He mused that they probably would've been evenly matched if things had gone differently for them.

He tried to fight it, but he couldn't. Their feet simultaneously rose to the bar, and then she reached out to grip him in a choke hold, making him do the same to her.

Vaguely, he realized this was actually the first time he'd touched her and she'd touched him.

They stepped up with their other foot, and then suddenly they were free falling.

He wished he could've gone to meet his death as fearlessly as she did, but, as the terror clutched at his throat, that was all he knew because he truthfully had no idea what was to follow.

Hopefully, it wasn't an eternal darkness of loneliness.

* * *

_Special thanks to ElijahsElena_


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys asked for a second part,  
> here you go!
> 
> _I own nothing but my own words._

It was an eternal darkness of loneliness.

Petrifying fear raced through him, paralyzing him.

Is this what death for a mud man was like? The same darkness he'd existed in for decades before his father set him free?

He wanted to scream just to hear _something_ other than the nothingness, but his voice refused to work because the fear, it was all consuming.

Then he saw a light.

A small gleaming ball of light through the darkness.

 _That was new_.

He started toward the light. Anything was better than where he was. Focusing on the light eased his fear too.

As he watched, the wind picked up and a blue flash splayed in the darkness.

He knew what that meant.

Father was trying to expel someone.

He wasn't dead. He was in Malivore.

So was Hope, and she was about to be expelled.

_Not without me, she's not._

He saw her struggling, fighting the vortex. She had no idea what it meant.

 _Good_.

He rushed forward and grabbed hold of her arm.

He hoped he would be pulled up with her, but he should've known better.

Father closed the vortex suddenly, and Hope fell into his arms.

_That was new too_

Considering he was feeling pretty good about still being alive even though he was stuck in Malivore, having her in his arms felt better than anticipated. Of course, he really should abandon that line of thinking. She'd just tried to kill him. But she had failed. Epically. He couldn't wait to rub it in her face.

Falling into someone's arms and finding that someone was none other than Deputy Agent Ryan Clarke gave Hope pause.

Why was he holding her? And why was he with her? She was supposed to be dead and at peace. Was he part of her peace? But _how_ was that possible?

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, grinning down at her. He loved when the tables were turned on her. He never knew what reaction he'd get. Based on their previous phone discussions though, he usually liked her reaction.

She struggled to get down. She couldn't keep lying in his arms. This was too close. _Too close._

"Whoa!" she said, standing and holding her hands up. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Saving your life," he lied, already formulating a plan. "Obviously."

"No," she shook her head in denial. "I'm supposed to be in peace, okay? You are not peace. In fact, you're the _opposite_ of peace. So where are we?"

He wanted to laugh. She actually thought she was dead. "Come on," he said, looking around as if the answer was obvious. "Do the math."

"It's not that simple, okay," she argued. "There are freaky cyclones and blinding lights and _you're_ here." She looked down, trying frantically to figure out what was going on. He was here, which didn't make sense unless she was being tortured for her _slight_ indiscretion with him. "Oh my God, we're in hell."

"No such thing…I think," he said, amused as she tried to figure it out. "Go on." This was definitely entertaining. She'd been wrong, and now she was stuck here. "Take your best guess."

Seeing the look on his face, she knew he was secretly laughing at her. That could only mean one thing. " _No_."

She started walking away from him.

"Why not?" he called out.

"Because I'm not gonna give you the satisfaction of telling me that I failed!" Hope spat out. He'd been treating this all like a game since he first showed up by the pit. He was standing there, even now, smirking, making fun of her. She knew it was stupid to wonder why he was treating her this way. She _had_ just tried to kill him, but it wasn't just that. He was that way _before_ she did the spell on him. Why did it seem like he had some sort of personal vendetta against her? She knew she'd cut things off rather suddenly but it wasn't like they were dating or had feelings for each other. He _knew_ she had a boyfriend too. So _why_ was he acting as if she'd betrayed him?

She also felt like she was going to cry. She'd tried so hard, thought she had it right. She really thought she'd found her purpose and was going to save Landon, and everyone, from this horrible evil that was about rise. And now she was stuck here, with _him_. And she hadn't destroyed Malivore as intended.

"You mean you don't want to hear you're in the blackness?" he sneered. "That you've been consumed by Malivore?"

" _No_ ," came her sharp reply.

He could hear it in her voice. _Aw, was she going to cry? Good!_

"You don't want me to point out that all your romantic heroics were for nada?" he boasted, _really_ enjoying this part. "That the big bad lives to see another day and all your friends have forgotten you ever existed?" _Including your boyfriend._

"Stop talking," she stopped to glare at him. She didn't want to think about it. None of it. Everyone… they all forgot about her. They had no idea that she was trapped. How was she going to get out of here?!

"If I were you, I'd make peace with _that_ ," he spat out at her, the anger for all that she'd done to him returning swiftly.

When she chose to walk away from him, ignoring him, the anger faded as he realized he was going about this all wrong. While he had hurt her feelings, which he was fine with, if she left him because of it he'd be stuck alone in the darkness and he couldn't handle that. Plus, his father was probably going to try to expel her again. He _needed_ to be with her whenever that happened or he might never get out of here.

"Hope, wait," he called out after her. "I can help you!" Internally he thought this might actually work. He'd just torn her down, so now he'd pretend to be her only hope.

"I don't see how," she said, turning back.

 _There_. That look, he saw it clearly. She was desperate. She didn't actually think he could help, but she was at the end of her rope so she was willing to listen to anything at this point as long as he wasn't poking fun at her still.

"I spent years inside this place," he admitted, giving her a glimpse into his existence for once. "And while you cannon balling into the belly of Malivore didn't seem to destroy him, it _has_ changed things, so stop being a dick to me and maybe I'll elaborate."

Because she _had_ been being a dick, since even before now—since she sent him a message calling him a mistake and then ignoring him until he was right in her face. He cursed himself because he could tell a little of his vulnerability was showing through. He hated that.

"Okay, I'm partially listening."

At least she wasn't running away from him anymore. "Every creature consumed by my father used to exist here in total isolation, but here we are, talking to each other."

He walked closer to her as he spoke, knowing his charm had worked on her before.

"Your presence here has somehow opened the cell doors. If it can do that, maybe there's a way for us to escape. So, what do you say?" He turned up the charm to the nth degree, getting as close as he dared, flirting in that way he'd done before.

"Partners?" he smiled, feigning hopefulness.

"Pass," she glared at him before walking around him and away.

And there it was again. He already knew she didn't want anything to do with him. Why did he think that would work? He lashed out at her again, despite his intention. He hated that she kept acting like he disgusted her.

"You are such a child," he said, attempting to make her feel inferior and driving home the fact that she was in high school. "No wonder you failed."

"Says the guy whose entire life has been about failing Daddy," she turned back to insult him too.

She definitely gave as good as she got. _That_ truth hurt.

"I don't trust you, okay?" she said, seeing the look on his face, knowing she might have gone a little too far with that one. "And I never will."

Well, he didn't trust her either, and she was right not to trust him but he needed her to work with him. She was so frustrating, "You're the one who brought me into this mess!"

He started approaching her again. "If you'd just let me meat-puppet my loser little brother, then we wouldn't even be in—"

" _Imitantor pupulis!_ " she said then covered her mouth.

"Not again," he managed to say as his hand came up to cover his own mouth.

He glared at her over his hand. Yeah, it was a neat trick, unless it was being used on him. He knew she deliberately mentioned learning it in the second grade as a power move, to belittle him into knowing how truly powerless he was against her.

"It's your old friend, the mimic spell," she stated the obvious. "You will do anything I _intend_ you to do," she started walking toward him so he was forced to walk toward her.

What was she doing now? He hated this. He hated not being in control of himself.

"And it is my _intention_ that this will be the last conversation we will ever have," she said, eyes blazing triumphantly.

 _Why did she keep getting to decide that?_ he grumbled internally.

"If I were you, I'd make peace with that," she turned his own words back on him.

For some reason, he couldn't do that. Admittedly, he hadn't really tried that much before he saw her with Landon because he didn't realize it was so fruitless, but he couldn't make peace with never talking to her again. He _did_ try to convince himself he didn't want her; and, ever since he'd been dragged into this endless void, he'd been doing everything he could to get back at her. But that hadn't made it go away. He just kept being reminded of why he'd approached her in the first place. Why wouldn't it just _go away_?

She turned from him, making him turn from her, and they started walking apart.

 _Damn it!_ No matter if he could get her out of his head or not, he _needed_ to get out of here. He couldn't stay here alone. He had to convince her to change her mind.

"Hope, we can work this out," he said, voice pleading. "Don't do this to me." _Haven't you done enough already?_

Wind whipped up and he realized since she'd done a spell, the vortex was opening again. Father kept trying to expel her after she did magic. _No_. He had to be near her. He had to try to leave with her!

He was able to turn around to face her, but that was all. There was a force keeping him from moving forward. He frantically tried to convince her. "Listen to me! Whatever this is, it's gonna destroy you. It'll rip you apart! Please break the spell so I can help you! Hope!"

As she struggled against the pull, she tried to jump away from the vortex and landed on the ground.

The force holding him back suddenly let up, and he ran toward her with great relief. He jumped on her, still hoping Father would let him tag along. If his father wanted to release her, he would _have_ to release him too. Or, he'd have to let her stay.

As the vortex closed, he breathed out in disappointment. He'd convinced her to let him help her, but Father still wouldn't let him go. That told him all he needed to know. If Hope figured it out and left without him, there was no hope for him. He would be trapped here forever. He'd failed his father too many times and Father just wanted to punish him. Forever, it seemed.

He realized he was lying with his head on her back and closed his eyes for a moment before pulling away. He was right. Lying with her beneath him, even for a second like that… _Why_ couldn't she have wanted him the way he wanted her?

"You're welcome," he said, pulling back and letting her sit up.

She turned on the ground and said, "Oh, crap!"

"Not exactly what I was expecting but..." He saw what she was looking at.

A dragon loomed forward from the shadows.

"Run!" she cried out, getting up and sprinting away.

He didn't need to be told twice as he ran with her away from the fire coming from the creature's mouth.

They ran until they were positive nothing was following them.

She was still very much suspicious of him, but he _had_ tried to help her. She just couldn't figure out why. If he'd been trapped here before, wouldn't it be easier for him to get out on his own? What did he need her for? Why did he keep trying to talk to her, even after she sent him away?

Now that she had accepted him as a pseudo-partner, warning him to run away from the dragon, he wondered if she was cooling toward him _finally_. And, if that were true, well, there _was_ something he wanted to talk to her about and now seemed as good a time as ever.

"Well, I wanted to see you again," he murmured, looking down as they walked. "Guess I should've been careful what I wished for."

She didn't reply. She honestly preferred their arguing to this. She'd been hoping he wouldn't bring it up, but she should've known he would. It was like a giant elephant in the room.

"I figured it out, you know," he continued. "Why you sent that last message. Pretty ironic, isn't it? You messing around with your boyfriend's brother." He scoffed.

"I didn't _mess_ around with you," she corrected him firmly. "I _never_ let you touch me."

"But you wanted me to," he pointed out.

She kept walking, choosing not to reply to that either.

He smirked because he was right. "You said it yourself," he continued softly. "You wanted to feel me inside of you. And, hey, I mean, we've got all the time in the world now. I can make that happen if you still want."

She cringed away from him and regarded him with that disgusted look he'd grown to hate.

"Hate sex is just as good as the regular kind," he said suggestively, just to get a rise out of her.

"Look," she said, putting a hand up as if she really thought he'd approach her without invitation. "I told you, it was a mistake. I have a _boyfriend_ , whom I _love_. What you and I did, it was just words, okay? No touching, no feelings, just _talking_ and texting! Nothing else."

Was she trying to convince him, or herself? "You think that'll matter to him?"

She ignored him again.

"You can't keep ignoring me every time I say something you don't want to hear," he said.

But, of course she could. That didn't mean he wouldn't stop talking though.

"Maybe it's a good thing, him forgetting you ever existed," he said, gloating inside because he knew he was getting to her. "At least then he won't ever have to know his precious girlfriend cheated on him."

She turned to face him sharply. "I didn't _cheat_ on him, okay? I just—"

"Oh, you definitely cheated," he said.

"Cheating implies more than flirting," she enunciated. "It implies physical and emotional. We've already established I never let you touch me—"

"But you _did_ touch yourself while thinking about me," he interrupted.

"You want to know why I ended it?" she snapped. "Because you asked for more."

"I just asked to see you," he said.

"No, you asked to get to know me," she said.

"What was so wrong about _that_?" he asked, exasperated.

"Because I was just using you as an excuse to not face reality, to not face my true feelings," she said, turning to resume walking while she explained. "You were supposed to just be fun. And then you had to go and send reality crashing back in."

 _Fun_? Well, yeah, he'd had a lot of fun with her. But he hadn't come on to her just for _fun_. Wait, did she just say she was avoiding her true feelings? About what… or should he say _whom_?

"So, you're saying _I_ made you realize you were in love with him?" he shook his head, suddenly wanting to rewind and forget he ever met her. "Great. Guess I really _did_ screw everything up."

He actually did care, she realized. Or rather, he _had_. She'd been so focused on everything she was going through she didn't once stop to think about what she'd been doing to him. He wasn't a teenager; he wasn't supposed to be the one getting emotionally involved after a few text messages.

"No, you didn't," she sighed. "I did…. Look, Clarke, we only talked for, what, less than a week? How could you..." she sighed again. It didn't matter how short a time it was, it obviously affected him. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Because dragging me into the pit," he said sarcastically. "That didn't scream ' _hurt him_ ' at all."

" _That_ you definitely screwed up," she said. "You unlocked Malivore and then encouraged me to kill myself!"

"You ended things with me and then I found you making out and saying I-love-yous to my brother!"

"You sent hoards of Triad agents to take over the school searching for an artifact you must've known wasn't there since _you_ ended up with it!"

"I had plans," he excused. "I didn't want the school or Triad getting in the way of them."

"I got shot!"

"What?" he frowned at her in confusion.

"Shot!" she held up her arm, showing him the hole in her jacket sleeve. "My friend got shot too! With something that was supposed to kill us slowly and painfully. Luckily, it didn't affect me, which is how I figured out the whole Malivore loophole. But Triad did that. Triad _created_ something like that. They were going to use it on school children! _You_ sent them there to do that! Even if I hadn't stopped whatever _this_ was by then, I would have after that. I couldn't have anything to do with someone who was capable of _that_."

 _Burr_. It had to be. He was always too trigger-happy. If she hadn't been a tribrid, they wouldn't be having this conversation right now. He'd seen first hand what those bullets could do to supernaturals. He'd inflicted some of that pain himself. He hadn't _meant_ for her to get hurt. Fortunately, she hadn't been.

"But you didn't want to know anything anyway," he said. "Not about me."

"No," she sighed again. "No, I didn't. You were my way of escaping things I couldn't deal with."

"Like what?" he asked.

She shook her head.

" _Now_ you're gonna be quiet?" he said.

"I'm not gonna open up to you," she said. "Ever."

He nodded. He was pretty sure he got it now.

She'd only been using him to get off. That was literally _all_ he had been to her.

At least now he knew. He wished he'd known before he got too hooked on her though.

She was back to feeling guilty, this time for an entirely different reason. Weren't most guys just supposed to be interested in one thing unless you gave them a reason not to? She didn't think she'd done anything to give him a reason, besides show him attention.

But, no matter what, it didn't change the fact that he wasn't a good guy. He was one of Malivore's sons and he'd been working to _help_ him. She wouldn't be in the predicament she was now if he hadn't thrown the artifact in. He _was_ a part of Triad and he _did_ do terrible things to supernaturals. He may not have meant for her to get hurt, but she was sure he didn't care about anyone _else_ getting hurt.

At least he'd fallen silent for now. Though, it wasn't as nice as she thought it'd be since she'd been stuck with her own thoughts for a while.

She still didn't understand why he stayed with her in the pit.

They _had_ stumbled upon a couple other monsters since that dragon, but none as bad. With each monster, though, he kept walking closer to her.

She didn't think he was doing it on purpose. She was pretty sure the monsters were getting to him. Wasn't he responsible for a lot of the monsters getting trapped here? He'd mentioned she had changed things by jumping into Malivore, that he'd existed in isolation before. Now he could run into any of them at any given moment. No wonder he kept getting closer.

She wasn't too keen on all the monsters either, so she didn't pull away. It was nice to not be alone.

It felt like they'd been walking forever.

"How long do you think we've been here?" she finally asked.

"Hard to say," he replied, following her closely. "A week. A month. A year? What difference does it make?" Because it really didn't matter, no matter how much time had passed no one would ever remember her.

There was a sudden screeching, a terrifying sound that instantly had him on edge and pulling back. "What the hell was that?"

"Uh, a gargoyle? I think?" She didn't move, just looked to the sound and then back toward him where he'd flung himself away in fear.

"I killed one once with my friends. You know, my _teenage_ friends. So why is a super villain like you scared?" She couldn't resist asking because it really was amusing. He loved to play games. He had a power complex. Yet, in the face of some of the world's scariest things, he hid behind her back. And he called _her_ a child.

Was that the way she saw him? As a super villain? He was actually insulted again, but he knew she hadn't meant it that way.

"I'm not a villain. I never have been. I'm just a kid who's afraid of his father and will do anything to get away from him. My entire life's been about figuring out how. And failing," he gave her a side look, reminding her of her earlier jab. "Miserably."

She _had_ called his life a failure earlier, and now he was opening up to her, letting her know she had been correct. _Don't, Clarke_. She wanted to tell him _not_ to open up, not to share personal things with her, because she knew how hard it was to do so. If he kept doing that, she might find herself feeling sorry for him—or worse, opening up too.

She could see the distress in his face. She wanted to help but she _couldn't_ open up to him. She could, however, comfort him in the only way she could without touching him.

" _Papilio lux_ ," she said.

Her hands glowed and slowly a golden butterfly formed before rising up into the air.

They both watched it fly away.

"You think that's our ticket out?" he asked, staring up at it.

"No. It's a comfort spell," she said. "It's… it's supposed to provide peace of mind."

He focused inside and realized he wasn't feeling quite so messed up anymore. She had done that _for_ him.

"Thank you," he said with a real smile.

When she returned his smile with a small one of her own, he tried not to feel hopeful again. At least she wasn't regarding him with open disdain and disgust anymore.

Of course since she'd done magic, the vortex started opening again and that's when he screwed up with her once more. As soon as it started opening, he grasped hold of her arm and it closed. He should've given it more time. He should've let her get to a place where she reached out for him to save her again. Instead, he acted without thinking

"Why did you do that?" she asked, looking at his hand on her arm. She was very conscious of any time he touched her, and he'd actually been keeping his distance… except whenever he helped save her from the cyclones.

"Do what?" he asked innocently, trying to play it off. _Crap_.

Fortunately…or rather, _un_ fortunately, shadow creatures started snarling around them.

They both said in unison, "Oh, crap!"

As the creatures approached, Hope quickly cast a spell, " _Invisique._ "

"Meaning?" he asked.

"I'm invisible to them," she said, standing still and looking at the creatures.

"You're invisible," he whispered harshly. "What about me!?"

As the creatures approached but didn't attack either of them, he realized she _had_ protected him too.

"Guess we're partners after all," he said, grinning once the creatures passed them. He knew he was a glutton for punishment but as messed up as everything was between them he still wanted her. Maybe being stuck in Malivore with her wouldn't be that bad. He wouldn't be alone at least…and maybe eventually she'd see him differently too. It could happen, right? _Not_.

"I didn't say that," she denied.

"But you _did_ just save my life," he was quick to point out.

"Because you're keeping things from me, and I want to know why," she said, raising her head suspiciously.

 _Crap_. He was hoping she wouldn't figure that out.

" _Veritas tempus._ "

Frustrated, he said, "Would you stop with the magic already? It's not fair."

She held up a hand. "Think before you answer. Is it unfair, or do you deserve it?"

"I totally deserve it," he answered automatically. _What_?! "Ga, What? Why-why-why did I just say that?" What had she done to him now?

"Because I cast a truth spell. You can only answer me honestly," she revealed. "Now, how does that make you feel?" She didn't feel guilty anymore. He'd been lying to her this entire time. Was that what his little opening up thing had been about? Another way to manipulate her? He was unbelievable. She really needed to stop falling for his crap.

"Like this isn't gonna end well for me." He was screwed.

"I've been working on a theory, trying to figure out why the vortex comes. And then I realized it's _always_ after I do magic. Am I getting warm?"

"Scalding," he answered instinctively, tightlipped. She totally had it figured out. Why did he have to be attracted to a smart girl whose sass and attitude matched his own?

"You know, it makes a lot of sense when you think about it," she walked away, pacing as she continued. "I thought I was wrong about being the only one who could destroy him, but I think my actual mistake was that I wasn't a fully activated Tribrid when I dove into that pit." She looked at him and explained further. "I've never died, so my vampire side hasn't been activated yet. And what I'm realizing now is that Malivore doesn't want me here."

He stared at her, fascinated, learning more about her. He knew a tribrid meant witch, werewolf, _and_ vampire, but he hadn't stopped to think about all the details. She wasn't even completely who she was meant to be yet.

"I'm toxic to him. Finish that sentence, please?" she demanded more than asked.

"Malivore's trying to expel you," the words spilled forth and he didn't even try to fight it. She knew what was happening; she just wanted to hear him say it. "To send you back from where you came."

"And every time he tries..." she looked at him expectantly.

"I grab hold of you to try to get expelled with you," he smiled ironically. Then he continued even though he wasn't being forced to. "But as much as my father wants you to leave, he wants to keep torturing me here even more."

"Then its official," she proclaimed. "All we have to do is wait."

"For what?" _We?_ Had she figured out how to get them both out too?

The wind whipped up again as it did every time the cyclone started.

"That's my ride," she said unapologetically.

 _No!_ "Hope, you can't leave me here!" _Please, PLEASE, don't leave me here!_

"I can't leave _with_ you, okay?" she said. "I have to get back to my friends. I have to get back to Landon."

Of course she was thinking about _him_. _Fine, go back to him. Just don't leave_ me _here!_

"I can't lie, right?" he said desperately. "So you know I'm telling the truth when I say that if you help me go back too, you'll never see me again. I promise." He wanted to get as far away from her as possible anyway now. He wouldn't come near her; he wouldn't even tell Landon that he was her little secret.

"I'm sorry," she shook her head. "But do you understand why I can't take that risk?" She didn't believe him. Villain or not, he wasn't a good guy. He could say that now, then make her regret helping him later. Besides, she couldn't stay any longer. The longer time passed, the more things were happening on earth. She had to get back. She loved Landon and he loved her, and she couldn't let him go on not remembering her, not when she was really alive. She wanted to be with him. She had friends finally, and she wanted to be with them too. She didn't want to be stuck here anymore, and she couldn't get out of here and bring Clarke with her. She was just going to have to leave him behind. _He_ was the one who unlocked Malivore. He made his bed, now he'd have to lie in it.

"Yeah, I would do the same thing if I were you." The truth spell reared its ugly head again and he clamped his mouth shut, shaking his head. "God!"

"Good luck, Clarke," she said, leaning back into the wind, letting it pull her up and away.

"Screw _you_ , Hope!"

And that _was_ the truth. _Screw you!_

The wind stopped, the vortex closed, and she was gone.

He was alone.

It hurt. It hurt a _lot_.

Then came the overwhelming terror that drowned out the hurt.

"I can't believe this is happening again," he said, looking around in the darkness.

He couldn't live like this, not again. He needed to find a way out of here, and then he needed to make sure it _never_ happened to him again.

He'd done everything his father wanted; it wasn't his fault that she had ruined everything. His father _had_ to see that. And if he hadn't, well, he would do anything Father wanted. _Anything_ to get out of here.

"What do you want from me, Father? Because I literally cannot suffer anymore!"

Of course, there was no answer. Why answer, why do anything when he could just let him rot in prison along with him. But if Clarke wasn't out there helping, _who would_?

"And make no mistake, you did _make_ me, so... _please_ give me one final chance to serve you," he begged.

Perhaps it wasn't enough to just beg. Maybe he needed to give Father a reason to let him go. If Father didn't have a task for him, well, he'd make one.

Last time he was meant to clear the way for his father's return. And now there was a bigger threat than ever before. Hope. If he agreed to get rid of his father's newest threat, then maybe Father would let him go. His rage was all consuming now. She had left him, abandoned him, and couldn't care less that he was trapped here. He hated her. He wanted her gone. He wanted to destroy her just like she'd meant to destroy him by leaving him alone in his own private hell.

"Send me back," he demanded of his father. "Send me back and I will be what you always wanted. I'll be the bad guy. I'll make you proud. You _need_ me. Because if you do not trust me to raise you from perdition, trust that I _will_ do this. I will destroy Hope Mikaelson, the only thing on this planet that can destroy you. You send me back, and I—"

He heard a noise and looked around, worried that it was another monster.

"Father? Is that you?"

Then the wind whipped up and a vortex opened.

He had won.

And it was only a matter of time.

He would destroy her.

But first, he had to find her.

And find her, he did.

Soon after leaving the pit, he realized Father's mercy came with a price. His body was breaking down.

He knew it wasn't just Father giving him a timetable to complete his mission. It was his father controlling him, making sure he did as he promised. Making sure he _was_ the bad guy.

Being back on earth though, and seeking a solution to the new problem Father had given him, Clarke realized he didn't actually have to kill her. No, killing a tribrid would just activate that vampire side, wouldn't it? That's what she said. It would just make her even _more_ powerful.

No, he didn't have to kill her, not if he could _become_ her. And then he really _could_ make sure he never got trapped in the pit again.

He bided his time, had his fun, played his game, executed it beautifully, until he finally had the means by which to destroy her.

It only took a couple months, but everything had fallen into place rather nicely. Josie Saltzman grew powerful enough that she could do the spell he needed. He had manipulated her completely and she'd fallen for all of it. She also came through with a plan that would make his prey so weak he wouldn't have any problem overcoming Hope before he became her. That alone was worth all the times he had to sit and listen to the endless prattle of her whining over all the slights people had tossed her way. It was worth all the times he had to build her back up just to become her confidant in such things.

Hearing from the twin that Landon still loved and still preferred Hope after the memories were returned, he knew that meant Hope was going to get what she wanted—to be back in Landon's arms. He became even more frantic to see his plan through.

She wasn't allowed to be happy while Clarke was miserable.

Fortunately, the twin passed out after she did the spell because she siphoned the illusion right out of him when she'd sought an additional source of magic for the spell he needed and saw him.

Now, for the next part of his plan.

Hope woke, gasping as she hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep. She felt so weak. She struggled to focus and realized Doctor Saltzman was there.

"Take it easy," he said. "The school's been evacuated, and you're in no shape to move. You'll be safe here."

"What's going on?" Hope asked.

Alaric exhaled, "In a nutshell, Headmaster Vardemus was a trojan horse for Agent Clarke." Hope's eyes widened. _He's here? Not in the pit still? But how?_

"The Sphinx doesn't want Landon for reasons no one can decipher, and Josie accidentally created a dark object of indeterminate power," he finished.

"I should help," she struggled to sit up.

"No, hey," he motioned for her to lie back down. "You have just enough blood in your veins to breathe. Lie here and heal while I go and patrol the school. I'll be right back."

She sighed. She lay back, looking around the room smiling slightly as she took in all of Landon's things. It had been a _long_ couple of months, but she was almost back to normal.

And that's when he appeared, out of nowhere, near the foot of the bed. _Clarke_.

"Oh, hey. Miss me?" he revealed himself with that devilish smirk of his, the one he loved to use right before he did something horrible.

"Clarke? How did you get in here?" She tried to sit up again. Of course he would seek her out. What did he want? Why was he even at the school? Was it about Landon again? But if so, why seek _her_ out? She hadn't thought about him much at all since she'd left the pit. She'd been too busy dealing with the horror that had become her life.

"My trusty ring," he held up his hand to show her. "Creates illusions. I thought I'd camp out while your friends emptied out the school." He walked toward her, reaching out for her, and she quickly tried to do a spell because she didn't know what he was up to.

" _Fluctus Inpulsa_." It didn't work because as she said it he put something around her wrists.

"Surprise," he said, gloating.

She saw the chains he'd put on her.

"I found these in the school armory," he told her.

She rolled her eyes. Of course he'd chain her up. She could barely move, but sure, put on some chains.

"Spelled shackles that neutralize a witch's power," he explained. "Yet another of Ric's fail-safes against supernaturals."

He pulled over a chair, sat, and smirked at her.

She tried to scoff, but was really too weak for much effort at all. "Yeah, please, go ahead, make yourself comfortable. And while you're at it, tell me what the hell you're doing here," she demanded to know. She didn't get it. He had failed in bringing his father back. Somehow he was out of the pit. Was he still trying to bring him back? Again, what did that have to do with _her_? This wasn't about their phone thing again, was it? She was pretty sure they were both _long_ past that.

"I swore to my father I would come back and take you out, but my dad screwed me over yet again," he said.

Well, that explained why he was after her. She didn't really care about his father or what he'd done, but she had to keep Clarke talking. She didn't know what he wanted and she was way too weak. She needed time to gather back as much strength as possible, especially since she couldn't use her magic.

"How did he do that? Hm?" she asked. "He seems like such a lovely supernatural mastermind."

He had to laugh, his father was at that. "My form started to break down. He put a ticking clock on me in order to control me. I had to consume people and monsters to stay stable. Well, it didn't work. I burned through my monster food supply and I was still unstable."

Since he was sharing, he reached up and swiped down the side of his face, revealing what he was to her—driving home exactly what she had done to him by dragging him into that pit with her. This was what he'd been reduced to by his father. She had screwed him, totally and completely, and he couldn't wait to finish this.

"Once a mudman, always a mudman," he stated purposefully. "But not anymore!" he declared quite dramatically.

"I have a new solution. You," he revealed, smiling devilishly. "Why kill you when I can become a powerful tribrid and stand up to my father once and for all?"

"Everybody wants to be a tribrid until they actually _have_ to be a tribrid," she said to deflect what she was feeling. She was still reeling from learning about him and finding out what he intended. She understood what was happening now. He didn't want to die. He was going to use her to prevent that. She'd just have to put a stop to it. Sorry, Clarke, but if it was him or her, she was going to kick his ass every time.

He held up the trident.

"What is that?" she asked because he obviously wanted her to. Now must be the part where she found out _how_ he was going to become her. He may claim he's not a villain, but he sure did have the whole villain monologue thing down pat.

"Mh, a little weapon your frenemy Josie helped create today."

He touched the trident to his hand. As she watched, a purple glow formed and moved from his hand to the weapon.

"Now, my consciousness will transfer into the next person I cut," he said, standing and brandishing the weapon.

She stared at the thing warily, thinking fast. She hadn't been worried at all until now.

"Hmm," he said he as he leaned down over her, getting right in her face. "I know I shouldn't gloat, but you screwed me over. And now I get payback." He grinned. "I'm going to enjoy this."

He reached down with his left hand to hold her in place, and she grabbed at it while he raised the trident over his head to bring down and stab her. She brought her left hand up, chains clanking, and used it to block his stabbing motion, taking the ring off with her right without him noticing. Her block threw him off balance and she used that to bring her knee up and kick him away with what little strength she had. He fell to the floor and she quickly put the ring on and created the illusion that she was running away.

"You literally have no blood. How far do you think you can get?!"

Her heart was racing as she sent an illusion of herself running out the door and he gave chase. She slid off the bed and underneath it, focusing on keeping the illusion alive.

It was frustrating, he had to admit. He had the perfect setup to defeat her and she _still_ managed to get away. Of course, it turned out she hadn't. She'd just outplayed him. He would've been impressed if his life didn't depend on outwitting her.

He tried to get back into the room, but she'd locked him out.

"Cute little trick. Now open the door, Hope!"

She would've laughed if she had the energy. Like she was _really_ going to open the door because he told her to. _Ha_.

He kept banging on the door and she knew it was only a matter of time before he got through. She needed to find a way to escape. The balcony—it was the only way. She looked down and despaired. It was such a long way down, and she was still so weak. She hoped she survived the fall.

He could see her through the mirror. _Crap_. If she jumped and died before he could use the trident, he was screwed. He finally got into the room and ran to the balcony to see if she'd survived. She had. He could see she was already up and trying to run though not very well.

"Somebody help!" She cried out as best she could.

She could barely run; the fall had hurt a lot. She kept moving, but it was slow going. He _would_ reach her at this pace. She started feeling faint, everything was going blurry. She needed to stay awake.

"Somebody help!" She tried screaming again, this time even louder.

She expelled too much breath with that yell, she couldn't keep going. She had to stop, she could barely breathe. She looked behind her, saw nothing, but when she turned back he was there and grabbed her around the throat.

"Nowhere to go. No one to help you," he practically sneered in her face. This was _exactly_ what she'd done to him, how she had left him in the pit. Ironically, and happily, he could return the favor.

He reached back to stab her and, _damn it_ , if something didn't stop him again.

_Fucking Landon._

"Hello, brother," Landon said before punching Clarke.

 _Ow_.

He pushed Hope out of the way so he could deal with his stupid brother.

"I heard you scream. Are you hurt?" Landon said to Hope, trying to push past Clarke to get to her.

Clarke wasn't having any of that. He pushed him back.

"Better now that you're here," Hope said to Landon.

Clarke hated her. He hated her so much. He especially hated the way she was talking to Landon like he was her hero or prince charming. Had she forgotten that _she_ was the one who had to save _him_? Landon was no hero, he was a sad pathetic waste with only one purpose and he couldn't even do _that_ right.

" _You_ should've jumped into the pit instead of your little girlfriend," he looked at Landon with scorn.

Clarke looked back at Hope. " _Are_ you guys back together? The relationship drama, it's so hard to keep up with sometimes." It didn't matter if they were back together, that would _definitely_ end tonight.

"So tired of hearing your voice," Hope gasped out, glaring at him.

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "You won't have to hear it much longer."

He went to try to stab her again but Landon jumped him from behind. They fought, with him making sure not to lose the trident in the frenzy. They threw punches until he eventually managed to toss Landon off of him and got to his feet again.

"I just don't get it," Clarke said to Landon.

"Get what?" Landon managed to say.

"What our father sees in you!" He kicked him while he was down. "Sure, you can regenerate, but you have no magic." He kicked him again, venting his frustration even more. "Someone always has to swoop in and save you." He aimed downward and punched his face. "You're pathetic!"

It felt good, beating the crap out of his brother—the brother that was the cause of _everything_. Father didn't want him, not when he had Landon. Hope didn't want him, not when she could be with Landon. What made Landon so perfect? Why did everyone find Clarke so lacking? He was a hundred times better than Landon. So why was _he_ the one suffering from his father's displeasure and Hope's rejection?

"I don't care what you or our father think of me. I only care about her," Landon declared, nodding toward Hope.

Before Clarke could say or do anything else, he was being attacked from behind again.

Hope couldn't take seeing Landon being hurt like that, so she struggled for strength. She finally found enough to attack Clarke, using the chains to help inflict some pain too. He blocked her, which threw her off balance enough that he was able to fight back and knee her in the face. She cried out and fell back but managed to stay upright until he kicked her again and she fell to the ground. She _really_ needed her strength back.

"Sorry, Hope. This is family business." He wanted to keep fighting Landon. He had some issues he needed to work out.

Of course he was attacked _again_ from behind. This time Landon grabbed him in a choke hold.

"Okay, I'm impressed," Hope managed to say to Landon as she struggled to get back to her feet.

"Don't be," Clarke grumbled while grabbing at Landon's hold on his neck. "He'll always be the inferior son."

"Well, it doesn't look like it from this angle," Landon said before switching tactics. "Just do it," he said to Clarke, egging him on. "You don't need her. You need me. Do it."

Clarke gripped the trident tightly. He knew what was happening, he knew her strength was returning. When it did, it would be all over for him. While he would prefer to be a tribrid because it would protect him from the pit, he'd take what he could get.

And some perverse notion inside of him kind of welcomed the idea of being the personification of who both Father _and_ Hope wanted. _Try finding a flaw in me then_.

"Landon, no!" Hope cried out.

"This is for you, Hope," Landon said, still gripping Clarke tightly.

" _No!_ " Hope yelled.

Clarke stabbed Landon in the leg with the trident, and Landon finally let him go.

"Not what I planned," Clarke shrugged. "But at least phoenixes are immortal."

As he waited for his consciousness to shift, Landon—or rather _simu-Landon_ —reached up and revealed the glow of the prism in his chest.

Clarke was suddenly filled with dread as he realized he had screwed up _epically._

"Now _you_ die tomorrow," simu-Landon said. "Boom! I rule!"

Hope breathed a sigh of relief. Landon was okay, and she was saved. There was no chance for Clarke to take her over now. She'd just gone through a nightmare situation where she honestly didn't know if she'd make it out alive. Clarke had turned out to be more of a challenge than she thought he'd be. But as of midnight tomorrow night, she would never have to worry about Clarke attacking her again, and she most definitely would never have to see him again.

"Oh, come on!" Clarke exclaimed as he fell and his consciousness transferred to the other body.

"Well, this just took a turn," he said, looking at Hope from a slightly shorter vantage point.

Hope finally stood up and used her foot to break the chain. She'd gotten more of her strength back, and now so was her magic.

"You're gonna whammy me, aren't you?" he asked, tensing. Why couldn't she have gotten her strength back and whammied him _before_ he'd stupidly put his consciousness into a golem with an expiration date?

"I am," she agreed. He deserved to get his ass thoroughly kicked for everything he'd just done to her.

"Remember that I'm already dealing with the trauma of knowing I'm dying," he pointed out, hoping for some mercy though he knew it wasn't coming.

"I will," she said, eyes glittering. He'd just tried to kill her; did he _really_ think she'd feel sorry for him now that he was the one about to die?

"Kind of makes the whole sacrifice a little less romantic though, no?" He still had to get in one last biting word. Say one last thing to hurt her where it would hurt the most. Anything to help ease his own terror at what was about to become of him. "I mean, where _is_ the real deal? He must be off with his _other_ girlfr—"

She threw the fire ball at him, knocking him out instantly.

_Jerk._

Looking down at him, she contemplated everything that led up to that moment.

He didn't know it, but their phone exchanges earlier that year had been a first for her—in more ways than one. While she hadn't opened up emotionally to him, she _had_ opened up physically in a way she never had with anyone else. She had ended things with him because she knew it was wrong, but she didn't dislike him at the time. No, that all came later, once she found out more about him. Once it became apparent he wasn't anything like the kind of guy she wanted in her life, least of all someone who knew about her private sexual thoughts.

Right now, though? Right now she actually felt like she hated him. She hated that she'd ever shared anything intimate with him. He had come after her with this single minded need to destroy her. To hurt her. It was that personal vendetta again. Was it just because she left him in the pit? Or was he lashing out at her _again_ for cutting him out of her life?

He was certainly one of her greatest challenges, she'd give him that. What he lacked in powers, he more than made up for with his duplicitous and manipulative mind. It was almost sad to see him go considering when he was around he kept her on her toes whether he was verbally sparring with her _or_ trying to fight her physically—not that he had a prayer of hurting her once she recovered.

 _Almost_ sad.

It was definitely too late for him now though.

And she was fine with that.

Waking up to find himself on a cot in a prison cell was mildly annoying. Remembering what had brought him to that point made Clarke stand to go look in the mirror, wanting to see the proof of his colossal mistake.

Surprised to see his own face, he wondered to himself for one iota of a second if he'd just dreamed what had happened. But, of course, if it was a dream, he wouldn't be in a cell right now, would he?

The door to the outer cell opened and Hope walked in looking smug.

"Ah, yes," she said, noting that he'd been glancing in the mirror. "I did a spell to alter your appearance. Turn you into the most _vile_ thing I could imagine." She held up his ring, letting him know she was using it to help create the illusion.

"I just look like me," he said, scrambling to figure a way out of here. He had to escape, then he had to find a way to transfer his consciousness again, then he had to find someone to put that consciousness into—and he had less than a day to do it. It sounded impossible but he wouldn't go down without a fight.

"Then I nailed it," she smirked, leaning against the door frame.

"Huh," he said. "I thought you'd rather stare at Landon's sad little face."

She gave him a look.

"Sorry," he said even though he was the furthest thing from it. He _did_ prefer to look like himself though. "To be honest, I'm glad you're here."

He offered her a smile with those words. He figured as long as she was here, she had to listen to him and maybe she could be convinced to help with his plan.

"You clearly hate me, so I can't imagine why," she said, amused.

"Because there's still time for you to come to your senses before you toss me into the pit," he said hopefully. They hadn't ever really _meant_ anything to each other, or rather, he'd never meant anything to her, but she wasn't completely soulless. Would she really just let him die?

She started walking toward the cell, or rather strutting, as if she held all the power—which she did.

"One, it's more of a ditch; two, I'm really looking forward to it; and three, you're trapped inside a magically created body that expires at midnight."

She stopped next to the cell bars, looking up at him.

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.

"Save your breath," she said spitefully. "There's no one coming to save you. You're going into a grave you dug for yourself."

He glared at her, hating that she was right, hating even more that she was gloating.

So, she was looking forward to his demise, was she? She wasn't saying that a few months ago. In fact, she was singing an entirely different tune earlier that year.

He spoke at her harshly, his anger blazing on his face. "I do still wonder why you ever turned to me in the first place." He leaned his face down closer to hers through the bars. "Was he unable to satisfy you?"

"Are you seriously bringing that up again?" she asked in disbelief. Of course he would. She had him trapped and powerless, so he had to do _something_ to gain the upper hand.

"You aren't so brave when you're not behind your phone, are you? Tell me, does he know the sounds you make when you're about to come?" he practically growled the words at her, wanting to make her as uncomfortable as possible.

She didn't bother replying. In fact, she thought it was about time she left him to rot until it was time to go to the portal.

"I want to know the truth," he said before she could back away. "You said before you used me as an escape. All those nights since you returned where no one knew you, where you were all alone, did your thoughts ever turn to me again... late in the night, with no one the wiser…"

"You made it abundantly clear last night how you really feel about me, so I don't see the point of even asking that," she said, annoyed. "But no."

"Pity that," he said. "Are you sure? I mean, being headmaster kind of limited things for me, so you may have featured prominently in some pretty hate filled fantasies of mine."

"You are so ridiculous," she exclaimed. "Stop it, Clarke."

"You know, you used to call me Ryan with the sexiest little moan," he reminded her. The side effect of his little torture session being that _he_ was getting a little bothered himself. _Worth it_.

He reached out to the bars but didn't reach through to touch her. Instead, he waited until her eyes were on his hand and he trailed his fingers down the bars until they were level with the very area of her they both wanted him to touch.

She stared down, wondering what he would do. For some reason she was frozen—unable to move away, unable to yell at him, unable to do anything but watch him.

He would never touch her like that without permission and he knew she wouldn't give it if he asked. Instead, he just slowly stroked his fingers back and forth against the bars.

He had to smirk when he saw her eyes following his movements.

He slid his hand closer to her, reaching through the bars, but still didn't touch her.

He could tell she was holding her breath, like she was actually waiting for it, waiting to see what he would do. And, yeah, it would be _oh so simple_ to stroke his fingers down the front of her pants until she was moving against his hand. It would be even easier to run his fingers back up and slide down her zipper before tucking his hand into her panties and finding the wet heat he knew would be waiting for him.

But he wouldn't do it. Not without her permission. He played a lot of games, but he wouldn't play that one.

"You're thinking about it right now, aren't you?"

The words snapped her out of it and she stepped back, denial gushing out of her mouth, "God, no!"

"Next time your boyfriend is unable to satisfy you, feel free to think about _that_ ," he glared.

"Screw you, Clarke," she snapped.

"Hey, there's still, oh," he pretended to look at a watch on his wrist, "yeah, plenty of time if you want to come in here and let me screw you proper. Or, better yet, let's go upstairs. I'm sure we can find a bed that's unoccupied."

She didn't dignify that with a response. Instead she turned on her heel and left with a huff.

"Good Morning to you too, Hope," he called out behind her.

He hadn't won any brownie points to get him out of this mess, but he'd gotten to her and he had most _definitely_ turned her on no matter how much she would deny it.

If he was meant to die that day, at least he'd go out with a bang.

Needing to go outside to cool off, she wasn't expecting a giant snowball to the chest to chill her but that's what she got.

 _Snowing_. It was friggin _snowing_. And everyone was excited about _Christmas_.

It was _October_. What the hell was going on?

On the one hand, she was glad for a distraction. Clarke had gotten to her. She didn't know _how_ he had accomplished it. What was _wrong_ with her that he could so easily seduce her? After last night? From inside a _prison_ cell, for crying out loud? That was certainly _not_ going to happen again.

On the other hand, everyone was running around gushing about Christmas and she just wanted to kick them all. She hated that time of year. She needed to figure out what monster was attacking so she could deal with it and put an end to the holiday cheer.

Easier said than done, of course. Research came up with nothing, and she was quickly losing her patience.

"There's gotta be someone around here as miserable as I am," she murmured glumly.

The answer came to her almost immediately. As much as she didn't want to talk to him again, he was probably the perfect person to ask considering all the monster knowledge he had stored in his head.

"You're right. I _am_ miserable."

She stood in front of the bars again. She did so deliberately. She was proving to him—and to herself—that he hadn't gotten to her as much as they both thought he had. She was also trying to soften him up, hoping to convince him to help.

He turned around and leaned back against the bars, considering, "So, _why_ would I help you?"

His mind raced. Christmas? The only monster he would really associate with that would be The Krampus. But why would a monster come to the school? The monsters his father had been sending out had been instructed to retrieve Landon but his brother wasn't at the school. If Father sent the monsters to the school, it was for some other reason… Did his father know he was trapped and about to be killed? Had his father actually sent someone to save him? It made sense. His father _needed_ him to keep helping him. And he would. He would keep helping his father, especially since he was trying to help _him_.

"Believe me," she said morosely. "I wish that there was another option, but you're the only one around here that's not eating _figgy_ pudding."

"On the bright side, me being miserable must be why I'm immune to the Christmas spirit," he said, thinking. "What's your excuse?"

She sighed. "I used to love the holidays. But…I lost a lot of my family and everything changed. Everyone running around here all thankful for what they have…"

"You realize what you're missing," he finished her sentence, slightly astonished.

Had she just done what he thought she had? Did she actually open up to him? She had told him in the pit that she would _never_ do that. But here she was, telling him something about her family.

She looked at him, amazed that he could relate.

"What?" he shook his head and pulled away from the bars, turning around.

"If anyone can relate to being alone, it's me. I've never even had a Christmas," he revealed to her, opening up since she had.

She looked up at him, and she actually felt for him. She never thought _that_ would be possible again.

"That's it!" he said suddenly, face lighting up. "You want my help figuring out your monster? Let me eat, drink, and be merry for once in my life. Go out with a bang. Now…" He cleared his throat. "Should old acquaintance be forgot?"

He grinned hopefully yet knowingly because he'd given her no other choice and she knew it, if her sigh of acceptance was anything to go by.

Plan already formulating, he was suddenly feeling much more joyful than he'd been earlier. This deal he made with her would get him out of the cell. He would figure some way to summon The Krampus, and it would bring him what he needed to save himself.

In the meantime, he would have some fun playing the part. He never _had_ experienced a real Christmas before so he made sure to get the full effect—minus the ugly Christmas sweater, of course.

She tapped her foot impatiently as he tinkered with stringing a popcorn garland.

"Because nothing says Christmas like streaming microwave popcorn on a tree," she muttered to herself.

"You're right," he tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth. "We can skip this part. Don't suppose the nog is spiked?"

"Doubtful," she eyed Doctor Saltzman and Dorian. "Though I'd lay bets on the cocoa."

He laughed and went to get a drink. She followed him with a long suffering sigh.

"Where's my gift?" he asked her.

"Gift?"

"You know, during Christmas there is an exchanging of presents," he said expectantly. "What'd you get me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Exactly what you got me."

"Ah, but I already gifted you with my silence," he said, taking a sip of his cocoa. He tilted his head. "I think they have a flask. There's nothing hard about this."

"Your silence?" she asked.

"About us," he explained flippantly as he made his way over to look at the gingerbread houses.

"You never told him," she said, understanding what he meant. He'd never told Landon about their phone sex.

"To be fair, I didn't have the chance without giving myself away," he said, tilting his head as he looked at the village decorated with gumdrops. "Besides though, I've decided I kinda like having this little secret of ours."

"Please," she said, annoyed. _Not again_.

"I can remember another time you begged me too," he grinned impishly.

"Stop it," she said between clenched teeth, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

"How about next we try to find some mistletoe?" he said, looking around too. "I mean, technically I'm a dying man, and you _are_ single, so a first—and last—kiss shouldn't be too out of the question, right?"

She shook her head. "There's that nerve of yours again. Was I the only one around when you tried to kill me yesterday?"

"That was then," he shrugged. "This is now."

"And _now_ , this isn't your _actual_ body," she said pointedly, as if that mattered. She wasn't going to kiss him or otherwise touch him at _all_ , no matter if he was in his own body or not. But she had a feeling it might bother him.

"Right," he said, backing down completely. She was right. The illusion was hiding the truth. But if he was going to actually touch her or kiss her—again, not like she'd allow him to—he would rather do it in a body that _wasn't_ his brother's duplicate.

Well, if they weren't going to hunt down mistletoe, it was time to occupy his mouth with something else.

Standing behind him as he leaned against a wall stuffing his face, her impatience had reached an all time high. He was taking forever to tell her anything.

"Wow, you really _are_ the son of a bottomless pit," she said in disgust, looking heavenward.

He had figured out his next goal anyway, so deciding that he'd definitely had his fill—no thanks to her rude mutterings—he took a paper ribbon from Dorian when it was offered and passed the rest of his plate off to a random girl.

He turned around, still chewing, and said, "Turn" while he motioned for Hope to turn around too. When she didn't move, he grabbed her arm to get her to do it.

Turning with a huff, she said, "Quit stalling."

Placing the paper on her, he used her back as a surface to write his Krampus wish.

"Tell me what I'm looking for before I run out of goodwill toward mud men and there are unpleasant consequences," she threatened.

"Hm, my best guess?" he leaned into her ear to say teasingly, almost seductively, "The Krampus."

She turned back toward him with her arms crossed. "What the hell is a Krampus?"

"Well, it's the monster that brought all this snow and ice to town," he explained as he turned to walk toward the fireplace. "Think of it as the anti-Santa. Santa Claus rewards good boys and girls, right? Well, the Krampus does the opposite. It seeks out hatred and anger instead of peace and joy."

"We're literally _surrounded_ by peace and joy," she said, disgruntled.

He tossed his paper into the fire. "Not for long," he said as he smirked at her, like he knew something she didn't.

"What did you just do?" she demanded to know. Of course he had tried something. He had opened up to her, gotten her to soften, and then played another trick. This was _exactly_ what he'd done to her in the pit. And she just kept falling for it. _Ugh._

"You should be proud of me, Hope. I took a page out of _your_ playbook. I found another loophole," he grinned then walked proudly away. It was only a matter of time now. He just had to wait for the Krampus to show up, and then all his Krampus dreams would come true.

Gritting her teeth, she stalked over and grabbed him, practically dragging him into an empty room away from everyone. She pushed him into the room and he nearly fell but caught himself.

" _Cloustrom!_ "

She approached him as he turned to face her.

"You're spelled inside this room," she told him. "Now what exactly did you wish for?!"

"You'll find out soon enough. Because as you can attest," he gave her a knowing look. "I've been a very bad boy this year."

She'd had just about enough of his sexual innuendos. She held up her hand, closed her fist, and he started choking.

"Unpleasant consequences, remember? Now _what_ , _did_ , _you_ , wish—"

"A savior," he finally managed to speak around her grip.

She opened her fist and he got relief. He took a breath but looked at her like she'd completely outraged him for magically choking him in the first place.

"You want to protect Landon, right?" he asked, annoyed. "Well, don't worry. The Krampus is coming to rescue me instead of going after him. And it'll kill anyone dumb enough to get in its way."

"Not if we're ready for it," she declared.

"By _we_ , do you mean the school full of idiot kids drunk on Christmas cheer?" He stepped closer to her. "Or, the grown men running around _actually_ drunk, believing that Santa Claus is real?"

He laughed, "Good luck dampening their spirits and getting them to listen to you."

"You leave that to me," she avowed.

She turned and left the room and he glared after her.

He refused to let her ruin this for him.

For the first time in his life, his father was actively trying to do something _for_ him. He was going to save him in his greatest hour of need. That was the first step right? It wasn't full on _caring_ —and it definitely wasn't loving him—but to make _some_ effort to help him, that meant something, right?

How many years did he keep hoping for his father's love? How many years was it shown over and over again that he would never get it? And yet he _still_ had this stupid hope that it was possible.

He should've known better.

As he stood, grasping at the disgusting tongue wrapped around his neck, trying to free himself, he despaired yet again. Hope had been correct. No one was coming to save him. _Why_ would anyone save him? To save him, they'd have to care enough to do so.

His father didn't.

The tongue suddenly loosened around his neck.

Hope had thrown the scythe through the air and cut the tongue in half, completely severing the creature from its appendage.

He struggled to get the disgusting thing off of him, and then ran to grab the scythe to use to protect himself.

He needn't have bothered.

Hope had already chased The Krampus away, having injured it…

Having saved _him_ from it.

"Damn it," she said, exasperated. "That thing could be anywhere."

She looked like she was about to leave to go after the creature, which would leave him locked inside again. Time was running out. The entire point of creating the fake Landon body was to close the portal. To hurt his father.

Well, if he was going to die anyway…

"Wait," he stopped her. "I thought my father was bringing The Krampus to save me. But I was wrong. He must have known I was planning to jump into a new body and screw him over again." Yeah, that definitely made more sense than thinking Father was trying to save him. How could he be so naïve? He _definitely_ knew better.

"How?" she asked.

"Well, I don't know," he shrugged. Father had his ways.

"But if you let me go, I can make it to the portal before the Krampus kills me."

"Nice try," she said, shaking her head, "but fool me once and all." And twice, and three times… she really needed to stop letting him fool her.

"What if there was a way I could prove to you that I'm on your side? That I'm telling the truth?" he asked, handing her the scythe.

She tried to tell herself he was only fooling her again, but she could tell that wasn't the case. She'd seen him this upset before back in the pit. He was actually _more_ upset now.

What was it he had said before?

" _I'm not a villain. I never have been. I'm just a kid who's afraid of his father and will do anything to get away from him. My entire life's been about figuring out how. And failing miserably."_

What she was seeing today, it wasn't the face of a kid afraid of his father. This was the face of a kid who had put his hope in his father and had been let down.

He said he had wished for a savior. He just didn't want to die.

That's all any of this had ever been about for him, hadn't it?

In the pit, on earth with his body breaking down, stuck in a body that would expire at midnight—everything he'd done had been about survival.

Clarke just wanted to survive.

How could she fault him for that? What would _she_ do to survive?

And now, well, now he sounded resigned to his fate.

She was going to give in. She was going to free him from the spell trapping him in the room. She was going to let him go to the portal. She was going to let him go out on his own terms.

She wasn't, however, going to take any chances. And he knew she wasn't going to. That's why he'd said what he'd said. He was giving her permission for what she had to do next.

" _Veritas tempus._ "

"When you set me free, I _will_ go to the portal and jump into it before this body disintegrates," he said immediately, unable to lie.

"I believe you," she said. She had cast a truth spell; she had no choice but to believe the words coming from his mouth.

"Just be sure to keep The Krampus busy," he said, not wanting to have to fight that thing again to get to the portal. Fighting to die, yeah, not the way he wanted to go out.

"I will," she nodded, feeling strangely uncertain. For the first time, she really and truly didn't want him to die. It had taken until this very moment but she finally understood him. And, in understanding him, she could forgive him. For everything.

If only she'd figured that out sooner, she might've been able to find a way to help him. But now? Now it was too late.

"For what it's worth," he said, "I'm sorry for, you know, being a dick."

"I forgive you," she said, glad to be able to say that at least.

He nodded.

"I've gotta…" she looked back at the door, knowing she needed to help everyone if The Krampus attacked.

"Go," he finished for her.

She left awkwardly, focusing on her mission ahead, not knowing what else to do about him. There wasn't anything more she _could_ do.

It was the longest walk of his life.

The entire time, he kept thinking about her.

For a while now, he had hated her. Though, he hated her because she didn't want him, so really, where was the lie? Either way, he kept _telling_ himself he hated her…right up until she did the one thing she said she'd never do.

She opened up to him.

That was when he had to admit to himself that his hate for her was spurred by her rejection and his resentfulness toward his brother for having everything he wanted, including her. He was taking it all out on her, blaming her, when she was just a kid trying to figure out life.

Arriving in the town square, he saw that he still had time left.

He hadn't liked the way things ended with them. While it wasn't _bad_ , it still wasn't the way he wanted to say goodbye. Not to her. Not to the person who had tried to save him in the end. Not to the only person who cared, even if it was just a little bit.

He couldn't die with her thinking he hated her.

"Can't say I expected to hear from you again," Hope said into the phone, smiling softly.

Ironic, wasn't it? She was talking to him on the phone again just like how this had all began. She was actually glad to hear from him. Their goodbye earlier had felt short, like there were more things that needed to be said. Speaking on the phone to say it though, it felt right.

"Me neither," he shook his head. "But before I die, I wanted to tell you that you're wrong. I don't hate you…"

She was quiet and he started to feel awkward, so he rushed on to say, "And that the truth spell you cast on me is still working. Obviously."

He hastened to change the topic, "The snow melted. I'm assuming that means The Krampus is dead?"

"Yep," she said. "Santa Claus killed him. This Christmas was surprisingly violent."

"In that case, I have a clean run to the portal." He looked at the clock tower. "At least I can enjoy the last ten minutes my life."

This was so bittersweet. She didn't know what to say to him, but she wasn't going anywhere.

"Well, if you want to talk, I'll listen for as long as I can," she said, giving him the only thing she could.

"I think I'm jealous of you, Hope," he finally admitted. "Because you're just as screwed up as I am, but... your friends still love you." He started getting choked up, but pushed through. "Guess I always wanted to believe my father could do the same."

She remembered years ago when she questioned whether her father loved her or not. She had been so scared, worried there was something wrong with her. She knew now that her worry was unfounded, but what if it hadn't been? What if, like Clarke's, her father had never loved her? She couldn't imagine the torment he must've lived with. But maybe, like her, he was wrong? Or maybe it was still possible?

"Anything can be real if you believe in it enough," she said, thinking about Santa Claus. Call it whimsy of the season.

He smiled, amazed that she would still offer him some kind of comfort, knowing his father, yet still believing there was a chance _he_ could love him. She really was innocent.

"Merry Christmas, Hope."

"Merry Christmas, Clarke."

He wished she still called him Ryan, but he'd take what he could get. He also wished he could keep talking to her now. All this wasted time. If he had just stopped trying to destroy her, if he had tried to be one of those friends of hers, then maybe things would be different. Maybe she would've tried to save him from more than just The Krampus instead of letting him die in the grave he'd dug himself, as she said.

Anything was possible if he believed in it enough? Well, he'd like to close the portal, and he'd like for her to keep being his savior. His mistake earlier had been putting his faith in a father who didn't care about him. Maybe if he put his faith, his belief in _her_. Then maybe it would be possible for him to be saved... or maybe he was just trying to comfort himself with the thought of her up to the very end.

It wasn't like he had anything else to hold on to.

He walked up to the portal, tears in his eyes, frustrated and angry at the entire situation, but still trying to believe, yet knowing deep down it was pointless.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll be home for Christmas."

She hung up the phone and walked away, trying not to think about what was going to happen in the next few minutes.

Being on the phone with him again had brought it all back, not the bad, but when it was good. When it was just the two of them not knowing anything about each other. When she just sought him out as her escape…for comfort. And she had been that for him now, comforting him in his final moments. She could do it for him, as he'd done for her. When she hung up though, she couldn't help but think she'd never have that comfort again.

She had to let it go.

She _had_ to. She didn't have any other choice.

After that, she got back together with Landon and she was happy. There was mistletoe. And she was happy. She grinned and she kissed him, and she was happy. But as the kiss went on, a feeling slipped in. Unfounded. It made no sense. It felt like she'd lost something. Something she didn't even know she had, or even wanted.

She pushed the feeling away. She had everything she wanted. Everyone remembered her. She had Landon back. She eventually had Josie's friendship again.

Everything was finally returning to normal. Her life was back to the way it had been before the pit.

So why did she keep feeling like something was missing?

Then Josie, Lizzie, and Doctor Saltzman were taken away. They were in danger. And she was scared again. Terrified of losing the ones she cared most about.

She knew the feeling well.

All she could think about was Clarke. Up until the Saltzmans disappeared she had just thought of him fondly.

But when her world started imploding around her again, she couldn't help but seek him out in her thoughts and memories.

With Alyssa in prison beneath the school, she had her room to herself again. She found herself dragging out her old cell phone that she had found in storage.

She didn't turn it on... she had erased everything, and he wouldn't answer if she called anyway. But she held it, remembering how easy it used to be, escaping everything with him. How his voice had soothed everything, inciting her, encouraging her to find pleasure. Making her forget.

She needed that again. She wanted that. But how was she going to get that when he was gone?

Her thoughts turned to their time in the pit.

He had offered sex then.

She definitely remembered that even though she'd moved from him in disgust at the time.

But now?

Now she thought about what it would've been like if she had said yes.

If they had kissed with all the fury they felt for each other.

If they had shed each other's clothes, or at least their bottom halves.

If they had found themselves sprawled on the ground, him pressing between her legs and driving home inside of her over and over again.

She imagined she might even bite at his ear, scratch her nails down his back as he took her roughly, both of them taking their hatred out on each other even while seeking out pleasure.

She came harshly on her fingers, the fantasy leaving her, but not the thought of him.

Breathing heavily, she lay back and stared at the ceiling.

It wasn't a phone call. It wasn't his voice.

It wasn't real.

But it was an escape from reality.

It was what she needed.

The next night was more of the same, but she was perhaps even more desperate.

She was strong during the day, as strong as she could be. Landon died again, and she didn't know if that would be _it_. The one time he didn't come back. And then he did, and, yes, she was happy. She was so relieved that she wrapped herself in his arms and held on tight.

Even later they kissed until he flew for the first time, and it was insane and awesome, but... it scared her even more. What if he took more chances? Put himself in even more danger? What if she couldn't save him? She couldn't lose him. She couldn't.

Her mind exploded from the worry, freaking her out, causing her to panic, and she couldn't take it. She needed a break. The Saltzmans were still missing and she needed to figure out how to get them back, but she needed a break. She needed release.

So she went to her room and escaped it all for a bit.

That night, the night when Clarke finally revealed his big scheme, when he told her his plans, when he revealed what was happening to his body by swiping at his face—at the time she'd been worried and trying to figure a way to save herself.

Now though? Now she remembered when he leaned over her, his face so close to hers that she had to work hard to avoid staring at his mouth. Now, she wondered what would've happened if she _had_ stared at his mouth.

What if when he whispered the words, "You screwed me, Hope", she had leaned up and kissed him herself. Would things have been different? Would he have kissed her back? He probably would've pulled back and murmured "What was that for?" He always talked too much. And then he'd kiss her back.

What if he had forgotten about his scheme for the moment? What if he had rose up on the bed to get on top of her? What if he lay between her legs and she wrapped hers up around him?

What if she had slid her hands up along with the chains and put them over his head so she could put her arms around him and pull him closer? What if he had reached down between them and undid her pants, pushing them down for her since she couldn't? What if he'd finally touched her the way they'd both been craving, sliding his fingers inside of her and exploring previously uncharted territory?

What if he'd undone his pants enough just to release himself and entered her like that? Both still mostly clothed, but he was inside of her, just as he'd said he wanted to be on the phone once. What if his tongue entered her mouth and mimicked the movement of his cock inside her?

Her body felt like it was on fire.

She pumped three fingers inside of herself and with her free hand she pinched at her chest. She moaned, imaging him sliding inside of her over and over, making all the bad go away and leaving nothing but the pleasure. The pleasure that kept building inside of her until she finally reached the top of the wave and went crashing down.

Breathing deeply, she grabbed her pillow, hugging it close, and remembered his self satisfied smirk. He would be giving her one right now if he knew she was fantasizing about him. He would've given her that look right then too if she _had_ kissed him that night and if she _had_ let him take her.

Of course, she'd never been taken before so she never would've given him that option. All of this would truly only ever exist in her fantasies.

"As supernaturals, you are all open to evil," Emma said, walking around the gymnasium. "And recently you've all had to face it. Some of us process these traumas by suppressing what happened. For others it's easier to bury it deep inside and pretend like nothing's happened at all. Still, others may take a different route, such as—"

"Pushing people away in an attempt to self isolate? Because everyone they love is in perpetual danger, which often results in them becoming perpetually dead. See there. That's it. That's my therapy," Hope had no qualms about interrupting Emma. She didn't even mind putting her previous therapy diagnosis on display for all the other students. She just wanted to get out of this group therapy thing, and she wanted to do it before things went any further. Like, before Emma snuffed out that Hope had a brand new coping mechanism for processing her trauma.

"We can all do better at processing the traumas we've been through," Emma looked at her pointedly, and then them all. "Which is why Doctor Saltzman has asked me to conduct a special group lesson today."

Emma pulled back a cloth to reveal a big wooden box.

"This device was created by Professor Rupert Vardemus."

Hope looked down, trying not to given anything away, as the rest of the students made disgusted sounds.

"Ew," Lizzie said.

 _Whatever, Lizzie_ , Hope thought, shaking her head.

"The _real_ Professor Vardemus," Emma corrected. "He's quite famous in mystical therapeutic circles."

As Emma explained the 'game' that they were being forced to take part in, Hope found herself worrying even more.

_Please don't let anything about Clarke show up in that box._

He shouldn't because he wasn't the thing messing with her subconscious, but still. There was a lot going on in her mind. She had no idea how she would explain to any of her friends why Clarke was still on her mind if he did indeed show up. And, if his name ended up being her safe word, well, hopefully no one else heard her say it.

Fortunately, Landon was the only guy on her mind in that box. But, it left her with a million questions.

"Is everything okay?" Rafael asked, sitting next to her at the foot of his bed.

"Apparently not," Hope said honestly. "I guess I just thought I was crystal clear on my damage..."

"Yeah, well, sometimes knowing what's wrong doesn't make things any easier," he said.

"What if what the game was trying to teach me is that something will always come between me and Landon? Like some impossible choice that I'm gonna have to make," she said.

"Then choose him. It's like I said in the bar—"

"I did," Hope interrupted him. "I did. And it felt good. It felt right. But it wasn't right... Because if I'd have gotten on that bus, I wouldn't have gotten out of the game. I didn't get to leave until I chose someone over him. Was that my lesson? That no matter how much I want him, Landon and I are doomed?"

"Hey, hey, hey," Rafael rushed to comfort her and calm her down. "It's just a simulation."

"Right," she said, not really agreeing with him. "Then why does it feel so true?"

Because it _was_.

It was true.

She couldn't leave until she picked someone over Landon… because she'd been subconsciously picking someone else over him for a while now… since earlier that year even.

They weren't doomed because of something the universe decided, they were doomed because of something _she'd_ decided.

That was what the game was telling her.

Somehow her escape had become her reality, her wish.

Anything was possible if you believed in it enough, right?

Maybe Clarke wasn't really gone forever?

Or… maybe he was just always destined to be her secret escape.

* * *

_Finished.*_

_* Until more episodes, assuming Clarke will be back._


End file.
